


Somebody that I used to know

by Kalee60



Series: Kalee's AU Extravaganza [7]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Childhood Friends, Bets & Wagers, Bottom Bucky Barnes, Bucky's memory isn't the greatest..., Explicit Sexual Content, Falling In Love, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Mutual Pining, Oblivious Bucky Barnes, POV Bucky Barnes, Steve Rogers is a little shit, Top Steve Rogers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-12
Updated: 2020-12-26
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:28:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 25,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28034670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kalee60/pseuds/Kalee60
Summary: Bucky Barnes, if asked, would say he led an ordinary life. He owned a successful business, worked long hours, had a pain in the butt best friend and dated good looking men on the odd occasion - though if pressed, he might admit he was craving a bit more in the romance department.But then he literally barrels into a stranger's life, a stranger that might not be so strange after all, a stranger who actually seems to know him very well - but for the life of him, Bucky can't remember ever being friends with such a gorgeous beefcake, who is funny, nice and genuinely seems to like Bucky for who he is.Suddenly a ridiculous wager is cast, and Bucky finds himself with five guesses to remember how he knows this mystery man.With nothing to lose, Bucky embarks on an odd but exhilarating adventure, and soon realises that maybe, just maybe, life doesn't have to be so ordinary after all.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Series: Kalee's AU Extravaganza [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1858591
Comments: 548
Kudos: 606
Collections: Bucky Barnes Bingo 2020, Stucky Bingo 2020





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello All - I'm back for another one of my AUs - my spin on childhood friends! This one was a lot of fun and I honestly hope you like what I've done with these two dorks.
> 
> Hoping to post every couple of days, life permitting - then in a perfect world you'll see a quick Xmas fic before the 25th and then I might go a little quiet for a bit as I have an amazing couple of prompts to complete for my brilliant Marvel Trumps Hate winner, then after that... back to our regularly scheduled extravaganza...
> 
> This fic also covers two bingo squares:
> 
> Bucky Barnes bingo: B2: kink: shower sex  
> Stucky bingo: B5: Russia

_Steve coughed so hard, his chest curled around his lungs squeezing tighter and tighter until he couldn’t get a breath in. His sickly body wanted to hyperventilate but there wasn’t enough air and he fell to the floor like a wet, half dead fish, flopping and grasping at his throat uselessly._

_“Hey Pal, I’ve got you.”_

_Strong arms wrapped around him and an inhaler was placed in his mouth, charged, ready to go and he sucked greedily, vision blurring as he tried his hardest to quell his body’s need to attack his lungs just because there was pollen in the air._

_“Breathe, Stevie. It’s okay, look at me.”_

_He didn’t want to, the whole situation embarrassing, he was sucking in air hard and fast, but a warm hand pulled his chin gently up, and even though his glasses had fallen off when he’d dropped to the ground, he was suddenly caught in clear blue-grey eyes full of concern,_

_“Take in breaths with me, follow my chest, deep ones if you can. It’s gonna be fine. I’m here.”_

_Steve did as he was told, even though he wanted to rebel against it, he hated looking weak, being weak, especially in front of Bucky. But the older boys methods worked, Steve’s gasps subsiding until he was an exhausted lump on the floor, still nestled in strong arms. Maybe he’d stay still for a little longer._

_Bucky was the most beautiful boy Steve had ever met, a boy who was currently staring down at him, and Steve couldn’t help but imagine what it would be like if Bucky leant forward to kiss him on the lips, his first kiss._

_But that would never happen. Steve Rogers was a tiny, sick, undersized twelve year old whose only redeeming quality was that he had a mint condition Star Wars Chewbacca still in his box. Bucky Barnes was a seventeen year old walking God - and Steve's babysitter._

_Life was cruel._

_Steve’s ma worked long and unsociable hours at the hospital, and Steve wasn’t old enough (though he’d protested he was) to stay by himself just yet, hence she’d organised with their new neighbours son to babysit him in the evenings and overnight when necessary. Steve initially baulked at the idea of having another boy looking after him, already mortified that he wasn’t ‘man’ enough to stay alone, and just because he was sick a lot didn’t mean he required constant vigilance, but the asthma attacks he suffered on a regular basis was a reminder that maybe, just maybe he wasn’t quite ready to be on his own._

_But did Bucky have to look so good though? Scrambling Steve's thoughts with just a crook of an eyebrow?_

_It was nearing six months of the babysitting arrangement, and Steve had tried and failed from developing the biggest crush on the boy - man. Bucky was popular, built, kind to a fault and was genuinely interested in Steve’s life and passions, including his obsession with NASA and horticulture. He never spoke down to Steve like other teenagers did, but treated him as a friend more so than a kid he was paid to look after, and Steve - well Bucky had unknowingly helped him discover he liked boys as well as girls (not that he’d ever act on it) and that he wasn’t a nuisance and that he did have valid opinions and worth._

_Steve couldn’t wait until he turned eighteen so that he could finally ask Bucky out on a real date, it was his plan, his long term goal. But it was all shattered on the eve of his thirteenth birthday when Bucky came over to tell Steve that he was leaving New York._

_“But you can’t!” Steve cried._

_“Pal, I’m sorry - dad’s been posted to Russia, we’re moving there for the next two years at least, I don’t really have a choice.”_

_Steve felt tears well as anger filled him, he shouldn’t cry like a little kid, not in front of Bucky. “But what about after - will you come back?”_

_Bucky ran a hand through his long brunette hair and frowned, Steve wanting nothing more than to beg and carry-on that he couldn’t leave. He was Steve’s friend, his confidant, his everything_.

_“I don’t know, Stevie - New York is a big place and who knows where we will go next, it could be Africa for all I know. But I have your number. We can call, write, be pen pals.”_

_“S’not the same.” Steve said, horrified to hear a crack in his voice, and without waiting to hear what Bucky would say, he fled. Left Bucky’s apartment, threw himself on his bed like a child having a tantrum and refused to come out for supper._

_Bucky left three weeks later, and Steve knew he’d never forget the boy who was his first crush, his first love. He’d make sure they stayed in touch and he promised himself that when he turned eighteen and was a real adult, he’d find Bucky and ask him out properly. Go on an actual date._

_Steve was adamant - he’d finally get his kiss from James Bucky Barnes._

_He just had to grow up first._

  
~*~*~*~  
  


Bucky was running late, not unusual for him, except he’d _actually_ tried to be on time for once, and that was the most frustrating part of it all. He was up early, had everything already packed, but his train was running late, then there was a maintenance issue that meant it fell even further behind. At least he wasn’t stranded indefinitely but he knew if he kept his clients waiting too long, then he ran the risk of losing their business, thankfully Darcy was there to hold the fort in the meantime. 

“Run your own company, they said, it’ll be fun, they said, be your own boss, they said.” Bucky parroted under his breath, wanting to find this ‘they’ person and throttle them for false advertising.

He knew he shouldn’t be so ungrateful, he was one of the lucky ones, at only thirty three his tailor made European bespoke kitchens were the talk of New York, he had more business than he could keep up with, and more incoming. But he was of the ilk that no matter how large or small the client, they were number one and should be treated with respect. 

Running half an hour late was not respectful. 

As he ran up the stairs from the subway hitting the oppressive heat of a New York summer a moment later, he gasped in the thick air, and checked his phone. Darcy had sent him a string of watch emojis and question marks - they went for three pages. Going into a partnership with his best friend Darcy, was scary at the time but turned into the best decision he’d ever made, even though most of his days were spent wanting to kill her slowly in many unique and creative ways. They’d met in culinary school in their early twenties just before he dropped out to follow his passion for design, and they’d been inseparable ever since.

He was meeting his clients at their brownstone in Manhattan, and usually it wouldn’t have been an issue, living in Brooklyn himself, but he’d come from Becca’s who had recently moved out to Jersey and Bucky loved her dearly, but he’d never rely on public transport to get him to a meeting from hers again. 

Bucky hated being late. It made him anxious.

So it was as he strode down the sidewalk, looking at the map on his phone, hoping the little blue dot that indicated his moving at a snail’s pace was going the right direction and not the other way, that he didn’t see the person before him until it was too late. Though, person was generous, he was more like a solid brick wall. 

Bucky went flying, bouncing off a chest that couldn’t be real, the guy not moving an inch as Bucky’s bag unsnapped and his designs flung out onto the pavement, and he crashed to the ground with an ‘oomph’. 

Looking up through his hair which had now fallen in his eyes, he pushed the strands back as the lunk of a man crouched down, face red, stammering an apology.

Bucky found he couldn’t look away. This man was gorgeous.

“Oh shit, I’m so sorry, I thought you saw me. I’m not usually so…” He gestured with a huge arm around in a circle.

“Built?” Bucky finished and could have swallowed his tongue. What the hell was that?

The man quirked a brow and gave a half smile and Bucky’s brain went south as his dick started to head north. He could not be for real. The man _was_ built, that wasn’t a lie, his biceps alone Bucky could hang from, thick and bulging under a t-shirt too tight, but damn if the small garment didn’t suit him. His neatly trimmed dirty blonde beard didn’t detract from his handsomeness, if anything it added to it - tenfold. Sparkling blue eyes held his and Bucky knew the mirth was directed at him.

“I was going to go with, unaware,” the man teased back and Bucky’s tongue was too thick in his mouth to respond like an adult. “Uh, should we be picking up your papers?”

“Oh fuck,” Bucky said coming back into himself, and scrambled to his knees, grabbing at them before the wind or traffic sent them high into the air and too far away for him to grasp. It was the designs for the McNaulty’s kitchen, a meeting he was even later for now.

“Here,” tall, built and wall-like handed over the last page and Bucky took it gently, their eyes meeting again.

The man suddenly startled as he stared, then frowned slightly, cocking his head to the side and Bucky had a horrifying suspicion that he’d somehow landed face down on the pavement and now had filth smeared up his cheek. Knowing New York, it could be _anything._

“Thanks, for you know? Helping.”

“Least I could do,” the man finally replied, “My fault after all.”

“Well, I’d best be off,” Bucky reluctantly said, wanting nothing more than to stay, potentially pick up some game from a passerby and try his hand at flirting. But he had a job to do.

“Bucky?”

Hearing his name fall from the adonis standing before him’s throat was nothing short of a twilight zone moment, or had he slipped into a multiverse? How in hell did this man know his name?

“How the hell do you know that?” he demanded with absolutely no chill.

“Holy shit, it _is_ you.” the man ran a hand over his face, he looked elated, but that couldn’t be right, how could Bucky elicit such a reaction in somebody so far out of his league he couldn’t even afford a hotdog at the concession stand?

“I’m sorry, do I know you?”

The man’s blue eyes riveted onto his, and a slow smirk started to form, making Bucky’s stomach lurch. 

“Yes you do,” was the response, but then he said nothing more.

Aware he had no time to play games, but, _christ,_ did he want to, he just huffed good naturedly instead, surely this man would tell him how they knew each other. “Look, I’m sorry if this seems rude, but I’m having trouble figuring out where from…”

Then the man with the megawatt smile (a smile Bucky suddenly wanted to kiss off his face) made a noise, he realised it was a chuckle. Oh god, it was deep and utterly decadent and Bucky wanted to curl up in it and live there. What was wrong with him? 

“Guess?” was the cheeky response.

“Guess…” Bucky trailed off. “Are you for real?”

“Completely, come’on Buck, I have a feeling you still like a puzzle.”

Interestingly, the man was spot on, Bucky did, but as his phone chirped again he honestly didn’t have time for it. “Apologies, I’m late for a meeting, and I have to go. I’m sorry, but -”

“Can I take you out for a drink later?”

“Wha?” Bucky managed through the thumping of his heart. Could the man hear it - Bucky was almost certain that roadworks had started up in his chest, there was a definite jackhammer somewhere.

“Let me take you out for a drink when you’re free, and let’s see if you can work it out?”

“Work what out?”

If the chuckle made Bucky turn inside out, then the laugh was downright lethal, he wanted to present himself immediately, offer himself up for inspection and hopefully this incredible man would be interested. Although he _was_ asking Bucky out for a drink, yet not as a date, but because they knew each other… right? 

“Work out where you know me from.” 

The man paused, a contemplative look on his gorgeous face as he tapped a finger to his chin. It shouldn’t have made Bucky’s knees weak. But it did. “How about I give you five guesses - if you’re up for a bit of a game that is?”

The thing was, this man had honestly pegged Bucky immediately, he did love a challenge, he did love a game, and he was very much interested in the allure of the specimen before him, there was no way in hell he would pass up an opportunity to meet up given half a chance. Even if the guy was currently being a bit of a douche and not telling Bucky how they knew each other. But then of course his hindbrain perked up, wanting to know what he’d win if he guessed correctly.

“I think we can arrange something.” Bucky settled on, glad he didn’t ask if the man himself was the prize he’d win if he worked it out. “College?”

“Is that your first guess?” the toothy grin should not have scrambled Bucky’s brains, but once again his body was not his own.

“Uh, no, just throwing a random word out. I’m not going to guess anything until I know the terms of the agreement.” Bucky grinned what he hoped was a sexy smile, and noticed that the man took a quick sharp exhale before a pleased expression fell over his features. Did it work? Did he manage to pull off sexy, not constipated?

“Do you have a card? With your number on it?” the man clarified.

Bucky nodded, and handed over one of his business cards from the front pocket of his satchel. Even though it was for work, it still had his cell number on it. He liked the way the man looked at the card intently, flipping it over before looking up at Bucky again, face beaming, Bucky forgot what swallowing was and what purpose it did.

“Oh wow, you design kitchens now, that’s great Bucky.”

Coughing like an imbecile (ah, that’s what swallowing was for) he composed himself, face burning, “Err, thanks… it’s a living.”

The man smiled at him, “knowing you, I’m sure it’s much more than just a living.”

And that was the thing he was struggling to comprehend - how on earth did this man _know_ him? It was beginning to frustrate the hell out of Bucky, but then his phone beeped, a message - Darcy no doubt.

“I really have to go now, I’m stupidly late for a meeting.”

The man nodded, “oh right, sorry, but honestly, it’s great to see you - you look amazing.”

“Uh, thanks,” Bucky said for the fiftieth time in their small conversation, and he needed to get a hold of himself and stop acting like a gormless fool. 

But then he saw the man’s blue eyes rake him from head to toe, and Bucky tried not to react viscerally at the look - it was almost an appreciating look, one you’d give to a pick-up in a bar. But no way. Men like the guy standing before him didn’t generally go for Bucky’s type. Not that he was horrible, far from it, but he was quite large and broad himself and generally bigger guys liked their partners, _smaller_. 

“Alright, you’d better go, I’ll call you later.”

Then the man paused, and it looked like he was warring with himself and suddenly with a shock of breath, he grabbed Bucky in the quickest hug imaginable. It was less than two seconds, but Bucky was left with whiplash from being pressed up against the man’s body tightly, feeling those muscles under the shirt directly on his chest, before they disappeared, “damn, sorry, I couldn’t help it. I’m just really glad I came this way now.”

Bucky, dazed, couldn’t move, but the vibration of his phone, _another_ call from Darcy made him shake out of his stupor. He answered without preamble.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m sorry, I just ran into… some trouble.”

Trouble indeed.

He nodded towards the man and gave a shaky finger wave as he turned and sped off down the street, completely unhinged at what had just occurred. What _had_ actually just occurred? He wasn’t even sure. Maybe it was a walking dream, made from stress and lack of sleep.

“What kind of _trouble?”_ Darcy hissed, “being this late - it better be of the gorgeous variety and that you got a phone number.”

“How the hell could you _know_ that?”

“Are you kidding me?” Darcy squealed into the receiver, “Oh I’m sorry Mrs McNaulty, James is only a block away, he’s a bit of a tight spot, sorry, he got himself into a tight spot.”

“Jesus Darcy, have some class,” Bucky sighed, but couldn’t help and look back just before he turned the corner, jerking in surprise to find the guy standing in the spot he’d left him in, still watching with a smile on his godlike face. Bucky stumbled when he turned back around and prayed to anyone listening that he wouldn’t fall and look like a complete and utter ass. Again.

As Bucky finally made it to the brownstone and rang the bell, he couldn’t help wonder who the man was? And how he knew him well enough to call him Buck, and know that he liked puzzle games? There was no way Bucky would forget a man like that.

It was only when an older lady with greying hair and a tight smile at his tardiness, opened the door that Bucky realised something.

He never got the man’s name.

  
  
  
  
  



	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys - you have been so amazing with your comments and love for this fic so far, even though it's barely started!
> 
> Thank you to everyone giving it a chance and clicking on in - I really hope you love what I put poor Bucky through in this story ❤️
> 
> Enjoy...

“And you had absolutely no idea who this walking beefcake was?”

Bucky sighed and took a sip of his beer as Darcy tapped her fingers impatiently on the table awaiting his response. He took a second sip and enjoyed the tightening of her eyes, he adored winding her up.

“Nope, nothing.”

“And he hasn’t called you yet?”

“Well, I mean it’s only been two days - maybe he changed his mind?”

“From what you’ve said he seemed _pr_ etty keen.” Darcy raised her hand and somehow through voodoo magic, a moment later two shots were placed before them.

“Really? It’s lunchtime.”

“And?”

“And I’m only having a lite beer - _and_ we have to go back to work.”

“I won’t tell the boss if you don’t.”

“You’re a dick,” Bucky finished and downed the shot, wincing as the burn of Tequila at noon hit. But he did wonder why the mystery man hadn’t text or called yet. He seemed overly interested in catching up when Bucky collided with him, almost like a big excited puppy, maybe he _had_ thought about it and changed his mind. Bucky didn’t like the curl his stomach did at the possibility.

“Did you fuck him once upon a time?”

“What the hell?” Bucky exclaimed as beer escaped through his nose in a splutter.

“The brick wall guy?”

“Yes, I know _who_ you were talking about.” Bucky looked around sharply, no one paying them a lick of attention.

“Well?”

He sat back, grabbed a napkin and dabbed his shirt and the few stray drops of beer that had landed on him and let out a long exhale.

“Honestly? Maybe, I did... well you know what I was like, back…” he waved his hand around, not needed to elaborate. Darcy was there after all.

“When you got sloppy drunk too many times at Mars Bar and slept with many unnamed men?”

“It wasn’t that many,” he countered and let it go at Darcy’s scoff. It wasn’t, _well_ , no more than most men in their early twenties who’d returned from abroad back to a vibrant city like New York. He wasn’t like that now. Didn’t want to _be_ like that anymore, hadn’t been for years. His hook-ups were far and few between now, because he was looking for more. Bucky didn’t want a quick fuck with a stranger, he wanted a connection. Something that seemed more elusive in the big city than finding a cab driver who smiled.

“But I hope he wasn’t,” he continued. “He was stunning, Darce, like you wouldn’t believe. If I’d had him naked and forgot it, then I need to be struck from the register of gay guys.”

“There’s a register?”

“Smart ass.”

And as Darcy went on to talk about the horrendous colours Mrs McNaulty had chosen for her kitchen, of which they were trying to talk her around for more neutral tones, Bucky let his mind wander. Is that how he knew the man, an aborted one night stand? He hated that he didn’t know.

  
  


Bucky had just put his feet up, a container of Pad Kee Mao sat on his lap and one of his favourite eighties movies, _The Lost Boys_ was queued up to watch, when his phone vibrated. He ignored it for a moment, not wanting his noodles to go cold, it was probably Darcy anyway, but it didn’t stop his traitorous eyes flicking down to his phone as the beginning of _people are strange_ came through his TV speakers.

He choked on his noodles when he saw the unknown number and the message on his lock screen. Heart in his throat Bucky grabbed his phone and unlocked it.

**Unknown:** Figured out who I am yet Buck? ;)

Taken aback by the winking face and the complete lack of sliding into polite conversation, this man, this gorgeous guy went straight to messaging like they were friends already. It was disconcerting.

And exciting.

**Sent:** I have my suspicions :)

Bucky didn’t have any suspicions, he was at a loss; and after he hit send, spent an inordinate amount of time re-reading those four simple words ending with a smiley face, wondering if he’d said enough to elicit a return text. It was flirty, right? What if he didn’t think Bucky put enough effort in? Oh fuck, he didn’t ask a question - rookie error, you _always_ asked a question, it meant they _had_ to write back.

But his phone chirped not even a minute later.

**HotMaybe1NiteStand:** Oh really? I’d like to hear these suspicions - you free for a drink tomorrow night?

**Sent:** yes!

Bucky sat back in his chair and groaned loudly, what the hell did he do that for? Not only did he respond within a second, but he used an exclamation mark. It was becoming abundantly clear there were very good reasons he was single.

**Sent:** sorry that was meant for someone else. I can make tomorrow work, time & place?

He hoped he’d managed to not sound like a complete loser, but he was certain it was a lost cause by now. What was it about this guy, this stranger that had him so keyed up already? It’s not like Bucky didn’t see gorgeous men on the regular, he lived in the biggest city in the world, he couldn’t even leave his apartment for longer than two minutes and not see someone ridiculously good looking. But there was something open and warm about this man’s grin, the way he looked at Bucky like he was somebody worth knowing, that he was excited by being in his space. It was a unique sensation, one he’d not felt in years.

**HotMaybe1NiteStand:** :) sure - no worries. How about, La Buvette, new French Bar {location shared} at 8pm?

Staring at the reply, then at the map, Bucky knew he’d not managed to fool the man at all. Rubbing a hand over his face, he quickly got up, leaving his phone on the arm of the sofa and went to the kitchen. Opening the fridge, Bucky decided he wasn’t going to have a beer after his tequila lunch with Darcy, (why didn't he have any soda?) so he closed it again and put water on to make a green tea instead. But the whole time he prepared his hot drink, he kept glancing at the device sitting innocuous, by itself, not at all looking like something that had just outed him as an over-eager dork.

He soon learnt his willpower was non-existent as within a few seconds of sitting back down he checked his phone, surprised to see a follow up message.

**HotMaybe1NiteStand:** No pressure if that doesn’t suit, but I’d like to see you soon.

Bucky couldn’t help the giddy sensation that filled his stomach and he coughed, trying to get the swirls and butterflies under control. This blonde beefcake knew him from somewhere, he wasn’t flirting, he wasn’t after Bucky in _that_ way. But for a few seconds he pretended. Pretended that this beautiful man with the smiling eyes had asked for his number because he wanted to date him, take him out and get to know him.

**Sent:** No - La Buvette sounds brilliant. We can discuss terms tomorrow night. I might even get a name this time.

_There_. That sounded more put together. Bucky was an adult, he had his shit together.

**HotMaybe1NiteStand:** I’ll get back to you on the name ;) can’t wait to work out what the *prize* will be for winning.

Bucky spilt the remainder of his green tea down the front of his shirt. Apparently he did _not_ have his shit together, not at all. He also had cold noodles and the beginnings of a hard-on.

He was a terrible adult.

  
  


Short of huffing into his palm to check his breath, Bucky had done everything he usually did when preparing for a date. He’d not meant to, it just happened. He was standing before his wardrobe staring at the five different pairs of black skinny jeans he owned and had a small crisis, ringing Darcy immediately.

“Why the fuck do I own five pairs of black jeans?”

“Because your ass looks fabulous in all of them, I could bounce a quarter off you and have it land back in my hand.”

“Okay, fair - but _five_?”

“Are you meeting the mystery dreamboat man tonight?”

“No…” Bucky hedged.

“I can’t believe you’re lying to your business partner.”

“No, I’m lying to my best friend, there’s a vast difference.”

Darcy’s hauranged sigh came through loud and clear. “Fine. Black jeans, boots, that white t-shirt with the loosened neck and if it’s not too hot out, chuck on your black waistcoat.”

Bucky russucked through his clothes, “you sure?”

“Don’t you remember what happened the last time you wore that out?”

“Oh,” Bucky flushed at the memory, it was a _very_ good night. “Good call.”

“That’s ok.”

“What is?”

“You were about to thank me profusely and promise to buy me the new Victorinox paring knife.”

“After.”

“After?” Darcy questioned, making Bucky grin.

“I’m not buying you anything in thanks until we see how the night pans out.”

“Spoil sport, but have fun and do everything that I would do.”

“I’m not setting a bin on fire.”

“Once - I did that once!” Darcy laughed as they hung up from each other. 

Bucky did have to give credit where credit was due though, the outfit was incredible in its simplicity and he had to wonder once again what he was doing, and why he cared so much about a man he knew next to nothing about.

So when he walked into the small French bar two hours later, noticing the looks he received as he strode in with a confidence he did not feel, he was glad for Darcy’s assist. If he caught strangers attention by walking past, maybe he’d capture a different stranger’s eye. 

A few seconds later Bucky spied a blonde head with incredibly broad shoulders and was struck with a case of nerves. He was going to screw this up, he wasn’t going to be able to articulate.

As he came to a halt a couple of feet away from the table, the man looked up, blue eyes widening a fraction before they quickly took Bucky in from head to toe. Tingles began in his stomach and didn't stop until he wiggled his fingers trying to dissipate them.

“Bucky, shit.” The man looked to the side then swung his eyes back to Bucky before rubbing the base of his neck, and for a second the gesture seemed familiar, but the moment disappeared when Bucky noticed his pink cheeks. And if the man wasn’t so stupidly handsome, Bucky would guess he looked nervous because of him. “You look... it’s great to see you.”

Ducking his head as he sat on the stool opposite the man, Bucky was glad for a second to compose himself, somehow forgetting how blue the not-strangers eyes were, the sheer brilliant hue made Bucky’s head spin. Was he swooning? He couldn’t be.

“I’d say the same, but I mean, I don’t know you...”

“Ah, and there is our first hurdle, because James, you absolutely _do_ know me.”

Bucky’s gaze snapped up to see a smirk on the smug bastard’s face before him. How the hell? This was getting ridiculous. So he went with his standard response, smiling like a shark and was interested to note the way the man’s eyes fell to his lips.

“Maybe you don’t know me that well after all, because -”

“Only your mother and grandmother call you James and your friends call you Bucky?” The blonde interrupted.

And every smart response in Bucky’s repertoire flew out the window at the man’s words. “How did you -”

“I told you, we know each other.”

“I need a drink.”

The smile the man gave was all teeth and blinding, “my shout, so do you still enjoy a Chivas Regal or has your palate moved onto something like McCallan?”

“Jesus, you really do know…” stunned, Bucky sat back heavily on the stool, feeling it vibrate from his jerky movement. “I haven’t drank Chivas since just after college and honestly I drink more beer now, but if I’m splurging maybe a drop of Glenfiddich.”

The man gestured to the waitress for a drinks menu and Bucky took a second to study him, clearly he knew Bucky from somewhere, that much had been proven. And he let out a silent breath, glad that it wasn’t an elaborate practical joke by someone, that no one set out to make him look foolish. But he was almost certain that the enigma sitting before him, smiling at the waitress earnestly as he listened to her talk about the different French liquors they had available, _did_ know him. But where from?

After they’d placed their orders, Bucky sat back and eyed the blonde, who in turn shifted from side-to-side at the scrutiny, and Bucky took a moment to enjoy the discomfort, before letting out a hiss between his teeth and shrugged. 

“I’m stumped, can I at least know your name? I can’t keep calling you gorg… err, blonde guy in my head.”

The grin Bucky received indicated clearly that he’d caught the unspoken word. 'No game’ Barnes should be his callsign.

“Alright, I’ll throw you a freebie, but this is it, no more help,” the grin turned slightly heated and anticipatory, “my name is Steve.”

As Steve (Steve!) watched him carefully, Bucky knew that the name didn’t ring even half a bell in his mind, sure he’d met a few Steve’s, but none that looked like the walking wet-dream sitting before him. He watched as a small flash of disappointment flew across Steve’s features and a wave of something close to pity that he couldn’t remember filtered through Bucky.

But if Steve was truly upset that Bucky didn’t recognise him, he didn’t show it, if anything his expression turned smug, like he was happy Bucky didn’t straight away call out where they’d met each other.

It was infuriatingly hot.

“Nothing then?” Steve asked, and thanked the waitress when she dropped off their drinks.

“Sorry, Pal. I honestly have nothing.”

But then Steve did something strange, the second the word _pal_ escaped Bucky’s lips, he shut his eyes and a small smile lit up his face, before he shook his head, opening them again and startling like he’d not realise Bucky would be looking directly at him. Maybe Steve had a kink for nicknames, what would happen if he called him champ? Rut against his leg? Bucky could only hope.

“That’s okay, do you want to have your first guess yet?”

And maybe it was the way Steve said it, voice syrupy after the sip of whiskey, or the way he looked over his glass at Bucky that made Bucky swallow thickly.

“Maybe, but what do I get if I guess correctly?”

Steve placed his glass down on the table and looked at Bucky contemplatively, and impossibly, swallowing became even _more_ difficult.

“Well I said you’d get five guesses, how about if you guess in that time, I'll give you my Endeavor Shuttle Fullstack model."

"Who are you?" Bucky asked incredulously, and almost fell off his stool at the way Steve's face flushed as he ducked his head, "but I've already got Endeavor, so…"

"Atlantis then?" Steve countered with a wide grin, embarrassment gone.

Bucky watched the gleam in Steve's eye, the playful nature in the way he was sitting forward on the stool waiting for Bucky's response with bated breath. As if he'd not just knocked Bucky's brain out of his head by flippantly naming one of his favourite shuttles from the NASA collection. So instead of tripping over words, he held out his hand, Steve seemingly surprised at first, then realised what was happening.

"Deal, but if I don't guess?"

Steve went quiet and the flush returned, seeming to spread further up his cheeks as they shook hands.

"How about I tell you what I want later," he held up his hand at Bucky's protest, "no, I promise it's not a kidney or your first born, and if you don't want what I propose, well that will be fine, I'm honestly just thrilled I ran into you."

Having no idea what someone like Steve could possibly want from him, Bucky nodded, probably foolhardy, and they let go of each other's hand, the deal struck.

"So you're a space nerd then?" Bucky asked with a lopsided grin, and Steve's gaze dropped once more to his lips before he coughed and took another sip of his drink. Bucky was starting to wonder if he had a smudge of toothpaste in the corner of his mouth at the amount of times Steve looked that way.

"Always have been, since I was a kid." Steve paused for a moment, as if thinking, waiting for something, but before Bucky could say anything he launched into a story about his last visit to Houston.

They spent the next two hours talking, Bucky continually surprised and thrilled at how much they had in common, that each branch in their conversation ended up on a tangent that went into another after that, the topics wide and varied and nary a breath between words. It was refreshing, and not at all like any first date he'd ever been on. And that stopped him short.

This wasn't a date, even though to some degree it felt like it, but it wasn't. 

"College?"

"Sorry?" Steve asked as he motioned for the bill, both of them finishing their drinks up moments earlier while complaining they had to work early.

"Did we meet in college?"

The slow spread of a smile over Steve's face once more caught Bucky off guard. How could any mere mortal be prepared for such a sight? 

"Nope."

"Nope?"

"That's what I said."

Huffing out a frustrated laugh as he left a large tip, Bucky stood up and stretched, "no hint, clue, elaboration? Just nope?"

"Oh sorry. No, Bucky. We did _not_ meet in college. Better?"

"Marginally," he sassed back and realised he quite enjoyed putting that smile on Steve's face. It was smug but soft, and felt like a different smile than what he'd been giving to other people all night, like somehow he'd reserved it purely for Bucky.

Which was all kinds of ridiculous.

They made it to the footpath where Bucky shifted from foot to foot awkwardly, having had just enough alcohol to feel a little more confident, but nowhere near enough to do anything as crazy as to touch Steve.

Yet he didn't need to, because suddenly his hand was engulfed by a huge palm and he was pulled in for a quick bro-hug complete with back slap. Though the slap was more of a slide and tapered off as Steve pulled back. Bucky realised quickly through his stunned confusion at the half hug, that Steve was a very tactile individual. And Bucky didn't mind at all. In fact, he wanted to pull Steve back in straight away and kiss his pink, whiskey stained lips. But he didn't.

"So one guess down." Steve said and Bucky nodded in response. "So you don't mind if I call you later and organise another catch up?"

Trying to catch the silly smile before it landed on his face (though he knew he didn't stop it completely) Bucky chuckled, "well I have an Atlantis collectable to add to my shelf, so absolutely."

Steve's laugh was full and robust and Bucky still couldn't understand how he'd met this man, then somehow lost all memory of it.

They said their goodbyes with Bucky heading towards the train and Steve walking a few blocks over to his apartment, and as he turned one last time before heading down the stairs to catch a ride home, he was once again surprised to find Steve watching him leave.

Holding up a hand in goodbye, Steve mimicked the gesture and Bucky with a not-so secret smile skipped the rest of the way down the stairs. Even the scent of stale urine couldn't detract from the giddy sensation coursing through his body.

He would be seeing Steve again and even if he worked out who he was by the next time, he might lie and draw it out over the four guesses, just so he got a few more non-dates in.

It was a solid plan.

  
  
  
  
  



	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again - a massive thank you to everyone who is joining me on this little jaunt - silent or vocal I appreciate every single one of you!
> 
> So enjoy a new chapter of these two boys circling each other, one oblivious and the other just enjoying the game ;) (and don't be too hard on poor Bucky, he's just not thinking straight.. lol)

Bucky was on cloud nine for the next few days, in a good enough mood that Darcy was insufferable with her comments and innuendos, though some of them were worthy of a half smile or two. And somewhere amongst his elation and Darcy's relentless teasing, they’d managed to talk Mrs McNaulty down from a peach and brown kitchen ledge and were currently mocking up new plans for her in their downtown office. 

There was something about the space Bucky worked in that he adored, his desk set up on the mezzanine that overlooked the renovated area below. An area that housed multiple kitchen stations (his designs of course) where Darcy and even Bucky when feeling inventive held niche cooking classes. The large area with immense folding doors at the front that swung open and industrial ceiling fans that helped with ventilation was perfect for them, and they fell in love the first time they both walked through for an inspection. It was a brilliant location, close to public transport and ensured their business had two unique facets to it, as Darcy never wanted to give up her years of fingerbreaking culinary school completely. So they now offered a huge array of lessons for every demographic, including tourists, children and people wanting new tricks or learning to cook for fun. They'd even hired a few staff members to help out on the busier nights, and between his kitchen design business and Darcy’s classes, they were doing extremely well for two poor kids from Brooklyn. 

“Are you going to ring him?”

Bucky kept looking over the different swatches of grey he wanted to try for the splashback and ignored Darcy.

“Grey Pail, Miller Mood or Endless Dusk?" He asked instead.

"They are the  _ exact _ same colour."

Letting out a hiss, he pointed to them all individually and repeated their names, and at Darcy's blank look he threw a hand in the air. "They couldn't be  _ more _ different."

"Look I know there are fifty -"

"Don't. Don’t ever mention those books or movies in conjunction with my favourite shades of grey." Darcy cracked up laughing and Bucky realised what he'd just said. "Don't you have a class to run tonight?"

"Yeah, but I've got Ian and Loki in to help. They’re setting up now for New York Street Foods."

"You got the two men who just so happen to flirt outrageously with you in to work?”

"Girls gotta get her thrills where she can." Darcy paused, "Endless Dusk is cool, go with that, much nicer than Miller Mood."

"Oh so there  _ is _ a difference?"

"Oops I'm out, I can hear Loki yelling desperately for me."

"In your dreams," Bucky called out as she disappeared towards the stairs and bounced down them with a wink back at him.

Smiling to himself, he looked back at his laptop screen and the splashback, annoyed to find Darcy  _ was _ right, that particular shade complimented the tiles they’d picked out perfectly. Damn it. He hated when she had a better eye than him for colours. It was almost as if she didn't even look and pulled the perfect combination out from her ass. It was infuriating.

Just as he was starting to get lost in cupboard designs almost twenty minutes later, his phone rang, and without looking he picked up.

"Barnes."

"Bucky?" A cheerful deep voice asked him.

_ Oh shit. _ "Steve, hey, hi, um, how're you going?"

“I’m good, you? I didn’t catch you at a busy time did I?”

Bucky looked at all the bills to his left, the quotes stacked up next to them that he had to work out, then to the half done design before him; and as the smell of frying onions wafted upstairs, he sat back in his chair comfortably.

“Nope, not busy at all.”

“Oh good, want to catch a movie then?”

Suddenly, Bucky sat forward in his chair, unable to stop the butterflies that decided to burst into flight, making him equal parts giddy and nervous.

“Sure, when were you thinking?” He asked as he hit save on the design before him, in case in his flummoxed state he somehow deleted everything he’d been working on for the last few hours.

“Now.”

“Now?” Bucky asked, “Like right now?”

The laugh that slid through the receiver was all deep tones and teasing, and Bucky was still astounded at how just a simple sound could render him useless.

“Only if you can.”

Glancing at his watch he saw it was a little after seven and knew he was going to say yes, wild horses couldn’t hold him back from uttering that word. He could always log in later that night and keep working. Unless he had a visitor.  _ No. _ Steve was just being nice, trying to get Bucky to remember him.

“Yeah I can leave, but I’m downtown, will take me a bit to get back home at this hour.”

“That’s alright, I’m here.”

“Here?” Bucky really had to quit it with the one word mimicked responses.

“Yeah, you have a room full of people learning how to make… oh my god is that gourmet hot dogs? You’ve been holding out on me!”

Standing up too quickly, Bucky's chair rolled away fast and he had to grab it before it hit the stairs and fell down in a cacophony of noise and embarrassment. Once his chair was safe and stationary, he walked over to the railing and looked down at the front of the building to see Steve staring in through the large plate glass window. Blue eyes flicked up and Bucky found himself caught in their depths once again, and the way they crinkled in a smile once they landed on Bucky was breathtaking. Steve raised a hand in greeting, and Bucky found himself dumbly responding in kind.

Sniffing under his arms surreptitiously on the way down the stairs, Bucky was glad he'd shucked his suit jacket earlier and was less formal in just pants and the shirt with sleeves rolled up, but he wasn’t as fresh as he’d like to be to see Steve. He wanted to be clean,  _ very _ clean for him. Shaking his head as thoughts landed on places he shouldn’t allow, he strode down the back of the kitchen, behind Darcy who was showing the participants how to correctly cut a roll and ignored her pointed stare, finding himself out on the sidewalk face-to-face with Steve a moment later.

Steve, Bucky found, was also unfairly handsome in the waning light of the day, and why he was amazed at that tidbit was beyond him. And although Steve's appearance at Bucky’s base of operations was surprising enough, he further expanded on that shock when he grabbed Bucky in a quick hug of hello. 

_ Ok _ . It was clearly a thing they did now. Hug on hello and goodbye. 

Bucky didn’t hate it. 

Not one bit.

“It’s good to see you,” Steve stated as he took a step back, blue eyes raking up and down Bucky’s body just like the last time they met, a small secretive smile on his face. 

Bucky had no idea what was going on; still trying to meld together that less than ten minutes ago he’d been wondering when they’d see each other again, or if he should call, to now suddenly having Steve right before him. And Steve of course looked utterly delectable in torn denim jeans, a white t-shirt (once again at least two sizes too small) a black light jacket and a baseball cap. How in hell was Bucky supposed to keep his dick down when faced with such perfection? Tape it to his leg?

“Yeah, you too, but…” Bucky looked up and down the street, still busy at that time of evening, then back to Steve only to find his eyes honed in on Bucky’s face. “How did you know where I worked?”

Still staring, eyes now sparkling in knowledge, Steve grinned. “I’ve told you before that I know  _ all  _ about you - so much so, it’s actually a little creepy.”

“What?” Bucky asked nervously.

“Oh god, Bucky. Your face, priceless. It was written on the business card you gave me when we ran into each other. I happened to be in the area and saw the lights on. I’m not hunting you down, promise.”

“Pity,” Bucky murmured and when Steve inhaled sharply, he realised he’d said that out loud. Bright red, and trying not to stammer, he plowed on, “Yeah it’s a pity otherwise I could have hooked you up with a cooking class.”

Save.  _ What _ a save.

“Do you hook up for private lessons?” Steve asked with a hint of purr in his voice, and New York was suddenly in a vortex, the only possible explanation as to why there was no air for Bucky to inhale.

“Uh, yeah... yes… we totally do, what’s something you’ve always wanted to learn?”

Steve was quiet for a long moment, eyes flicking between Bucky’s before his grin went wide and he shook his head, as if Bucky was an enigma to work out. But he wasn’t, what Bucky wanted was plain as day. In fact it was standing right in front of him.

“Breakfast foods. You know - energy giving morning starters, or foods that can replenish spent energy from the night before or the like.”

And  _ fuck.  _ Bucky couldn’t do this anymore, were they flirting or was Steve actually asking about their lessons?

“We might have something like that, I’ll see what I can set up.” Bucky replied, voice thin and high, watching as Steve huffed out a breath, the sound bouncing off the peak of his cap. And Bucky found himself staring way too long to be polite, “Uh, what movie were you thinking?”

The moment the words were out of Bucky's mouth, the slight tension eased as Steve truly came alive, “Oh well, there’s a theatre a few blocks away that’s showing the original Mad Max then backing it up with the remake.”

“I love Mad Max,” Bucky responded immediately.

“Yup,” the smile Steve gave indicated he already knew that fact. And it was starting to edge toward exasperation, Bucky had to actually think harder about how they might know each other. But in a way, he also didn’t want to remember, because he was really enjoying getting to know Steve. As they were now.

“Come on in, I just need to tidy up a few things first, have we got time?”

Steve checked his phone, “Just under an hour, is that enough?”

“Perfect,” Bucky replied and motioned for Steve to follow.

The second he stepped inside, Bucky realised his mistake when huge wide eyes followed them from across the kitchen. He’d not factored Darcy into his impromptu invitation.  _ Well hell. _

“Uh, alright everyone, saute the crap out of your sauerkraut and make sure you season!” Darcy yelled out and made a beeline straight for them. Bucky increasing his pace didn’t deter her, not that he expected it to.

“Bucky, who’s your little, I mean, who’s your extremely buff date? Oh my god is -”

“Darcy, this is, my... uh, friend Steve?” He was going to flail her alive.

Steve chuckled at the clear question in Bucky's voice and gave Darcy a toothy grin and Bucky could tell that Darcy was impressed by the way she grabbed hold of the counter behind her then flicked her eyes towards Bucky. He hoped she’d remain silent, though her eyes spoke volumes and he flushed.

“Nice to meet ya, Darcy.”

“Likewise,” she purred and Bucky felt an irrational spike of jealousy nestle under his breastbone.

“Darcy is my partner.” Bucky explained, trying to swallow away the feeling of discontent. Darcy would never try anything, not now she knew who Steve was. But all of that fell away at the expression on Steve’s face.

It looked as if someone had told him his favourite baseball team was moving cities, that the icecream he'd been waiting an hour in line for had sold out just as he got to the front of the queue.

Darcy immediately cackled and walked away, throwing a laugh over her shoulder, “Jeez, you two are precious idiots. Nice to see ya Steve, I’m sure we’ll meet again soon. Just like my  _ partner  _ said.”

It was only then that Bucky realised how he'd introduced Darcy.

“Partner, oh fuck. Er, sorry I didn’t - business partner. I meant Darcy is my business partner,” his face was flaming a shade of red that didn’t exist in any colour chart he’d ever seen. It was a smouldering crimson induced hue brought on by yelling that at Steve, earning a few glances from the people learning the art of Street Food. 

What. An. Idiot.

But it seemed Steve didn’t even notice Bucky’s terrible attempt at trying to clarify what Darcy and he were to the other, because the megawatt smile was back and he was staring fondly at Bucky.

“Alright, let’s do this.”

Nodding, Bucky ran up the stairs to save everything and turn off his computer and if he thought he caught Steve watching his ass as he climbed up the stairs, well that had to be a trick of the light. Right?

  
  


The theatre Steve took him too was old and kitch, but only in a way that made it completely charming. They ordered drinks and a huge box of popcorn that Bucky wasn’t certain they could eat, considering Darcy had thrust two hotdogs into their hands on their way out. Steve’s eyes going comically huge, and the way he said thank you reverently made Bucky wonder if it was his first ever hotdog.

Although it seemed Steve just really enjoyed the street food, if the gratuitous and mind numbing moans as he wrapped his mouth around the bun was anything to go by. Bucky had been half hard the whole time (unfortunately it seemed to be a state of body when he was with Steve). They’d walked slowly the three blocks over, eating and falling into companionable silence and it was nice, comfortable, filled with an unnamed tension on Bucky’s behalf, still trying to work out where he knew this man from.

Finding their seats in the semi-deserted theatre, they sat, lazily chewing popcorn and chatting, Bucky ending up telling Steve absurd stories about studying with Darcy. And there was one moment when Steve laughed loudly, grabbing at his knee and Bucky had no idea what he’d said that was so funny, and couldn’t remember, because there was something so familiar about the gesture, the sound, the wheezing laugh that tickled at his memory. But no sooner had the whisper of familiarity snuck into his mind - it was gone.

“You okay?” Steve leant over grabbing another handful of popcorn when he saw that Bucky had fallen silent.

“Yeah, just thought for a second that I remembered something.”

Steve eyed him, the gleam in his eye excited, as if Bucky was about to say something that would make him burst into song. “Yeah, what was it?”

Not sure how to answer that it was a just a wisp of  _ something,  _ a feeling, almost indefinable, gone before it had even fully formed, he shrugged.

“Did we meet at a work conference?” 

Bucky noticed the slight slump in Steve’s shoulders and immediately felt bad. He wasn’t sure why Steve didn’t just tell him who he was, because he now felt like he was failing Steve by not guessing correctly. He wasn’t certain how to explain that as an army brat, he’d moved more times than he could count until he finally landed back in New York in his early twenties, determined to make a homebase, and he did, kind of. He still changed jobs a lot, studied a lot, moved apartments even more, meeting countless people everywhere he went. But how in hell did he not remember Steve from any of those places? He could assume they didn’t know each other well, but some of the things Steve had alluded to, indicated that there was at least more than a passing meeting.

“Do I look like I’d attend a kitchen cabinetry conference?” Steve finally replied with a quick grin.

“A what? You’re an idiot, but actually, I wouldn’t know,” then it hit Bucky in all of their conversations it hadn’t come up. “I have no idea what you do for a living - you  _ could _ sell hinges for cupboards. Actually is that what you do? Did we meet from bonding over butt hinges?”

“That can’t be a real hinge?" Steve laughed again and once more in the quiet of the theatre as they waited for the trailers to commence, it was so painfully familiar, yet Bucky still couldn’t put his finger on it.

“They are, trust me. Or are you insinuating I would say the word 'butt' for a cheap laugh pal?”

And there it was again, the softening of Steve’s eyes, the small smile that climbed higher on his face at the off-the-cuff name. Bucky would call him pal to the end of the world if it meant being smiled at like that every time.

“I don’t sell  _ butt _ hinges, still not a real hinge,” he ignored Bucky’s protest and kept talking, “but I  _ am _ an Industrial Designer.”

Taking a second, Bucky tried to work out what that exactly was, and finally gave up at Steve’s shit-eating grin, clearly he wasn’t expecting Bucky to know.

“Alright smart-ass, what exactly does an 'Industrial Designer' do?”

“Oh, I’m so glad you asked,” Steve ignored Bucky's second smart-ass comment, “basically we develop concepts for manufactured products, so I use my knowledge in engineering, business and art to create ideas for items we use every day, like home appliances and cars.”

Sitting back and grasping a large handful of popcorn that he unceremoniously shoved in his mouth and chewed straight away, Bucky found himself impressed - very.

“So what do you specialise in then?”

The lights dimmed and a burst of sound came from the speakers surrounding them. Steve leant over, lips almost touching Bucky’s ear, unaware that he’d just pushed a huge button for Bucky and whispered, “Toys.”

Bucky knew he should give up, his dick was not his own anymore and he managed a slightly unhinged smile Steve’s way before his brain went off on a tangent, imagining what kind of toys he could possibly be creating other than the obvious kids ones.

Suffice to say, Bucky was glad he’d seen both movies more times than deemed necessary, because he didn’t take one second of them in.

  
  


Afterwards, they walked back towards Bucky’s workplace, Steve excitedly talking about how good the remake was, that it somehow captured the essence of the original but twisted it in a fresh new way. Bucky nodded along, quite happy to listen to Steve speak excitedly for the rest of his life about movies. And suddenly it hit differently, because he  _ meant _ it. In only three meetings he was almost completely gone on a man he didn’t know, whose last name was a mystery, and somehow, for some reason he was enjoying the game too much to really push, to really try and work it out. And the reason shouldn’t have come as a surprise, but it still did.

Bucky didn’t want this to end, the delicious push and pull of their interactions, the way Steve smiled at him knowingly, like he had the greatest secret over Bucky. He liked being looked at like that, being sought out for these pseudo dates, and Bucky wasn’t certain but he had an inkling that maybe Steve might be interested in more than just friendship in return. And that was the kicker, being unsure of Steve’s motives, it's what was stopping Bucky from making a move. Because, maybe he was seeing things that weren't there, maybe it really  _ was _ just all friendly banter.

When they arrived at the front of Bucky’s office, all the lights were off and it was locked up tight, Darcy’s class having finished hours earlier. Bucky unlocked the door, motioning Steve in, but Steve stopped on the threshold as Bucky turned the alarm off.

“I’d better not, I really want to, but I have to start early.” And it was the reluctance in Steve’s voice that suddenly made Bucky’s mouth dry.

“Oh, okay, no trouble,” and it was as Bucky walked back towards Steve to hopefully get another hug goodbye, that he tripped over his feet in the dim lighting. 

Falling forward, knowing he was about to hit the cement hard, he was stunned when a body broke his fall, keeping him upright. 

_ Steve. _

He grasped at the front of Steve’s shirt, unintentionally pulling him closer, the startled breath Steve let out didn’t compute at first as the adrenaline of almost falling filled Bucky’s body, his own breathing coming in sharp jabs at the near miss. But it was the realisation Steve’s hands were placed on his hips that made Bucky’s heart lurch sideways; holding him steady, ensuring he didn’t fall further. Bucky was fairly certain he couldn’t fall any further or harder than he already had. Literally or figuratively.

But instead of pulling away or moving forward, Steve stayed motionless, expression equal parts shocked and something else Bucky couldn’t pick, but was intense nonetheless, and Bucky couldn’t work out what Steve was doing - so he didn’t move either.

They stood in the doorway at an impasse, the glow from the streetlights illuminating their faces, inches apart, so close Bucky could feel the breath from Steve on his mouth, and he licked his lips unconsciously. The moment was charged, electric, and Bucky wanted,  _ needed _ something to happen, but he couldn’t do anything without outing himself terribly, and Steve made no other movement.

“Steve,” Bucky finally whispered.

“Fuck, I…” Steve took a deep breath, "I want -"

A huge bang from a few stores down startled them, as a group of drunk people tried to use a bin lid as a shield. And suddenly there was a chasm between them, the cool of the evening immediately hitting Bucky's skin, prickling up his arms as Steve stepped back out of Bucky's space.

They watched as the revellers passed by in a haze of quips and yelling, Bucky disappointed at the interruption and what might have transpired if they’d remained undisturbed.

"I should go…" Steve said quietly, his voice soft and full of contemplation. Bucky watched as Steve raised a hand and scrubbed at the back of his neck for a second, eyes on Bucky and for the life of him, he couldn’t get a read at all, couldn’t see what was going on in those beautiful blue eyes. It was too dark, and Bucky was already frazzled from the almost… kiss?

"Oh, sure, no worries." Bucky said, pushing his hands into his pants pockets, biting the fingernails into his palms to stop from moving towards Steve. “Thanks for the movies, it was a fun night.”

Steve dropped his hand from his neck, and for a moment it appeared he was going to reach out towards Bucky, but didn’t. 

“Anytime, Buck.” 

And then Steve gave a small wave, said good-bye and was gone.

Blinking, Bucky tried to work out what had just happened, feeling like an idiot for almost falling over in the first place, but what occurred after he fell was staggering. Surely Steve felt it too? The connection?

Shutting and locking the door behind him, his heart performing flip flops in his chest in confusion, Bucky slowly climbed the stairs to his office. 

As he sat heavily in his chair, he looked out into the street below, the streetlight flickering every so often, and replayed everything from that night in his mind. Had he messed up? What was Steve thinking? What did Steve want?

Though more importantly, the question should be - who the hell  _ was _ Steve?

Bucky pulled at his hair and tried to think hard, recalling the few Steve’s he’d met on his travels. But none of them were remotely like this Steve. This man who claimed to know him.  _ Did _ know him.

Sighing, he looked at the pile of work he'd shirked to go watch movies with Steve, and figured he might as well finish up Mrs McNaulty’s kitchen design, it wasn’t like he’d be sleeping well that night anyway.

  
  
  



	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just over half way there already!! So thrilled with all your comments and the positive response this little fic has inspired ❤️ 
> 
> I can't thank you enough for giving it a chance.
> 
> So without holding you up any more - enjoy the below shenanigans!

Bucky started to worry when three days went by without a single peep from Steve. And sure, he knew that he could message first, but what would he say? ‘Sorry for being a loser and eye fucking you when you were just being nice and caught me before I broke my nose?' It wasn’t exactly Bucky's finest moment, but still... he missed the texts, the jokes, the late night memes sent in the cover of darkness. And he couldn’t help worry that he’d somehow ruined it all. Though the practical part of his brain tried to argue that maybe Steve was busy with work. 

With his _toys._

Therefore when Darcy asked him out for drinks that Friday night, Bucky had no reason to say no, it wasn't like he was going to be busy on a date. Fake or otherwise.

The Cranker was only a few stops away from his apartment, so it was very convenient and best of all, it was a live music venue that tended to cater to the alternative crowd, which was right up their alley. Bucky needed a night of loud music and beer to take his mind off things. Else he sit in his apartment sulking and going over an interaction a thousand times in his head that he couldn't change.

As they walked through the doors, Bucky realised that what he loved the most about The Cranker was it didn’t have a proper dress code, not that Bucky was a slouch in the clothing arena, but it was nice to know he could wear anything and not get a second look. Glancing around at the crowd inside, then down at pair number three of his black skinny jeans collection, the very lightweight black short-sleeved shirt with a small flower print on it that was almost see through in certain lights, and his boots - Bucky knew he fit in. Darcy though, was in her element, she was at the bar buying them another round and Bucky could see her slouchy maroon beanie with the riot of curls underneath, the checked shirt wrapped around her waist showed off her foo fighters t-shirt perfectly and her clunky boots were not taking any prisoners.

She was back soon enough with a sparkle in her eye and two bottles of beer. They soon found a spot, downing their drinks as they teased each other and chatted.

The band was loud, the people sweaty and the beer, small batch craft, and not actually too bad. At least it was cold. But the thrum of energy and activity was starting to loosen Bucky up and soon enough he had a light buzz going on, _okay_ , more of a heavy buzz, and that was fine.

By the time he looked at his watch, seeing it was close to midnight, Darcy and he were dancing to bad nineties rock music, still drinking and cracking each other up as lights flashed around them and reality pinpricked down to just the two of them in the crowd.

“You still dance like a monkey.” Darcy yelled over to him.

“What?” 

“Arms everywhere, then what’s that move? That one there? It looks like you’re peeling a banana!”

Darcy was cackling as she started to jump up and down, hand in the air like a DJ without a setup, and Bucky poked at her stomach making her squeal in laughter.

“It’s my signature move, it works on all the guys.”

“Only if you’re actually peeling and eating a banana… _with_ eye contact.”

“That’s not classy.”

“Yet it works for you.” Darcy teased.

“Not gonna disagree.” Bucky sassed back, and for the next ten minutes they tried to outdo each other with the most ridiculous dance moves.

It was as Bucky was showcasing ‘changing the lightbulb’ that a large frame caught his eye and while one arm was straight up in the air, hand twisting, hips gyrating, his gaze skittered over, smacking into an intense blue one. A gaze that was already locked on him. 

Steve.

He immediately dropped his arm, noting the brilliant smile Steve was giving him, and Darcy’s sarcastic, “you’re lucky Loki just turned up,” was lost in the noise his brain made. It was part a high-pitched squeal and static and it wouldn’t stop.

Tripping over his feet, he made a beeline towards the bar, towards Steve. And it was as he neared, that Bucky finally realised Steve wasn’t alone, next to him stood a gorgeous, athletic, bronze-skinned man who was smiling widely at his haphazard approach, the gap in his teeth eye-catching. Well at least eye-catching to Bucky as he honed in on it, trying not to shut one eye to see better. He’d drank _way_ too much with Darcy, and if he were a better man, a patient one who actually cared about how he was perceived by others, he would back off, wave at Steve and grab a glass of water and try and find a coffee.

Bucky was not a better man.

“Stevie!” He cried and decided right then would be the time to initiate first contact for a change.

But Steve wasn’t loose in his grip, nor did his arms reach up to hold Bucky like he was desperately craving. No, Steve was rigid and Bucky quickly pulled back, not so out of it that he couldn’t tell when a hug was wanted or not.

“What did you just say?” Steve’s eyes were wide, the blue dazzling in the lights from the stage, the thump of the bass from behind Bucky hitting him between the shoulder blades with every beat. And Bucky lost what Steve said because he couldn’t work out Steve’s expression. It seemed open yet shocked, tinged with excitement and wariness, it was all such an odd combination that Bucky immediately knew he was seeing things in his alcohol addled state. But it was when he took a shaky step backwards, almost knocking into another patron that he noticed the liquid spilt down the front of Steve’s shirt. _Oh crap_ , had he done that?

Then Bucky's attention was caught by the amused chuckle and grin from the man standing next to Steve, the look he was receiving friendly but curious. Holy shit, was this Steve’s date? Was Steve on a date? _Fuck._

“Oh shoot, sorry, Steve. I didn’t mean to interrupt your date, just saw you over here and thought I’d find out if you're really stalking me. And to say hi," Bucky hiccuped loudly, as Steve gave him a sharp undefinable look, “so, yeah, this is me saying hi.”

“Another drink?” Gap-toothed turned to Steve, voice rich and deep with mirth, and that was when Bucky should have made his escape, but apparently he was a glutton for punishment, so he didn’t move.

“Thanks, Sam. Oh, and a water too.” Steve called out to the back of the now retreating man.

“Oh god,” Bucky facepalmed himself, “You’re on a date and I just totally accosted you then spilled your drink over your _really_ tight shirt and then -”

“Buck,” Steve interrupted with a laugh and Bucky's jaw shut with a click. “Sam’s not my date, I work with him - he’s just a friend. This is his regular bar, so no stalking, and I managed to spill my own drink, you, uh... you just startled me before s'all.”

“Oh, sorry...” Bucky said, and blinked slowly, the light fragmenting, which made everything a little blurry on the edges. Maybe that last jelly donut shot wasn’t a great idea.

“How much have you had to drink?” Steve asked and Bucky squinted, curious as to why Steve hadn’t called him in three days.

“You haven’t called,” he found himself blurting. 

The reaction was instantaneous, Steve's eyes darted to the side and a light sheen dusted his cheeks. But Bucky wasn't embarrassed at his forthright question, the alcohol giving him just enough courage to speak what was on his mind. He could feel shame in the morning if need be.

Steve rubbed the back of his neck, finally catching Bucky's gaze and Bucky suddenly understood that the gesture was born from nerves, an automatic reaction, and once again something about the movement twigged an almost memory in the back of his mind. Although he was picturing someone smaller, younger and -

“Yeah I’m sorry about the radio silence, it wasn’t intentional. And I was absolutely going to call you tomorrow, I promise.” Steve let the hand drop from his neck, his look sheepish, “How about we chalk it all up to nerves.”

The laugh that punched from Bucky’s gut was loud, even with all of the background noise around them and Steve looked taken aback at the outburst, but Bucky reached out and grabbed the deliciously strong forearm before him and squeezed it once, leaning into Steve to keep himself steady.

“Nerves, you’ve got to be kidding me? _You?_ Look at this.” He stated, waving a hand over Steve like a game show host showing off their wares, then looked around, the bar spinning a bit and he took a moment to take a deep breath, then a second, trying to recalibrate… again.

“Buck, you honestly have no idea do -”

But Steve didn’t finish, because Sean (or whatever his name was) came back with two bottles of beer and one water, the latter opened and placed in Bucky’s hands by Steve. He was about to protest, but suddenly he was thirsty, _really_ thirsty. Water was the most perfect idea.

Steve was also a perfect idea.

“This is Sam,” Steve introduced, shaking Bucky from his thoughts. And okay, _not_ Sean, and _not_ a date, Bucky reminded himself.

With a grin he reached out to shake Sam’s hand, only noticing at the last moment it was the hand that had been gripping Steve's forearm tight. Had he been holding on to Steve the whole time? _Oh god._ Bucky had a feeling that he was going to be blaming alcohol for a lot of faux pax’s that night.

“Nice to meet ya,” Bucky greeted.

“Same, I’ve heard a lot about - hey, I don’t deserve to be kicked. What made you think that was okay?” Sam said to Steve with a huge smile, the affront in his voice clearly feigned. “Alright, alright, I’ve just spied my boy Riley, I’ll leave you two to it. Nice to finally meet you, Bucky.”

“Uh... likewise,” Bucky trailed off, not having ever heard the name Sam before, and wondering how he knew of Bucky to think it was good to _finally_ meet him.

“Want to find a table and chat for a bit?” Steve asked. And maybe it was the hope in his voice, the unguarded way it seemed Steve really wanted to talk to him, even in his completely drunk state that made him nod.

“Sure, but I think I’m going to need a coffee soon, or a cheeseburger and fries.”

Steve chuckled and led them further away from the bar and dancefloor, until he found a small table, Bucky squeezing in next to a group of women who were doing a line of shots, he had a feeling they were Darcy’s kind of people.

“Huh, The Cure, I love these guys.” Bucky exclaimed as Fascination Street played over the speakers. “You know I used to have this neighbour, a kid I babysat for a bit, he was mad about them, actually he’s the reason I love them, and The Smiths too.”

Steve didn’t respond and Bucky glanced up as he sipped at his water, only to find Steve staring directly at him, mouth slightly agape and Bucky smiled, happy they were sitting together, out and about. It had been a long few days without contact. But Steve still didn’t look away, instead he coughed tightly, the intense look in his eyes holding Buckys’ captive.

“You… err, you used to babysit?” The tone was light, but Steve’s entire body was taut and Bucky frowned.

“Oh that probably sounds a bit lame right? But only a few, in my late teens before we moved, though I had a few kids I looked after overseas too, Pyotr was a good laugh.” Bucky realised he’d gone off on a tangent. “It was good money at the time.”

“Yeah but putting up with bratty kids, that would have been annoying?” Steve asked, and there was something stringy in his voice, Bucky suddenly feeling his answer was important, but for the life of him he couldn’t work out why. He needed another water, or beer, or something. Although that cheeseburger was starting to sound amazing. Why was everything getting louder and quieter all at once, and the haze, was that there before?

Hang on, Steve asked a question, right?

“Oh nah, not at all - this one kid, The Cure one I mean, he was special. Bright, full of life even though he had health issues, really funny, huh, I wonder what happened to him?” Bucky paused as a wave of dizziness hit, and absently he saw Steve fidget with his beer, glancing around, profile jumpy all of a sudden and Bucky laughed, giddy. Steve looked up at the noise, “we should dance, like you and me, together - that would be fun right? I'd like to get close to you, feel you.”

“Jesus Christ, Buck,” Steve breathed, leaning closer over the small table, and Bucky was intoxicated at the warmth and genuine happiness in Steve’s eyes, all of it directed at him. Maybe he might just get that kiss he’d been craving since the moment they first saw each other after all.

And just as Steve's eyes flicked to his lips, Bucky hiccuped loudly and immediately smacked a fist into his chest quickly trying to dissipate the affliction. It didn’t work, they came out stronger. _Crap._

“Answer me honestly, Buck - how much have you had to drink?”

“Ummm, full disclosure. I think it’s at least… a _lot.”_

“What am I going to do with you?” Steve said with a shake to his head and a smile. Bucky had some choice ideas, but wisely kept them to himself. “Can I take you home?”

Wide eyed, Bucky looked up through his lashes with what he hoped was a sexy playful smirk, “I thought you’d never ask.”

Steve faltered for just a second, eyes hooding slightly, but before Bucky could capitalise on the moment, they were up and heading out. Bucky sent off a quick text to Darcy, (after Steve told him to let her know he was leaving) and he received an eggplant, peach and a mind blown emoji in response. Giggling, he wasn’t certain if she was talking about his or her night. Either way, it was turning into a good one.

But it was as soon as he and Steve hit the fresh air outside, Bucky knew he was in trouble. He was quickly losing grip on himself, the last few drinks hitting him hard as they soaked into his system.

And it was just after he told Steve his address, the world blurred to such a degree that everything went dark. The last thing he heard - Steve’s voice calling his name.

  
  
  


Bucky startled awake, stomach churning, his bedsheets sticky and gross from the alcoholic sweats as mortifying memories started to filter through.

Why did he so vividly recall asking Steve to stay and cuddle with him?

There is no way he would have? He couldn’t even remember leaving the bar, so he must have ordered a Lyft or something. But the sensation that Steve brought him home lingered, and he looked around his room, seeing the large glass of water and a few tablets next to it along with a note.

_Oh shit._

Looking up at a ceiling that was spinning, he shut his eyes as his stomach rebelled against being awake, and tried to remember anything at all, ignoring the note for a moment.

He got flashes of being in a car, an arm around his shoulder, soft words spoken directly into his ear, but not what they were; then slumping against a huge strong body that all but carried him up to his apartment.

Had all of that happened? It must have. He was after all in bed… alone.

“Fuck,” he cried out into the room and grasped at the note.

Opening one eye, he honed in on the words, still blurry and he moved the paper further back until it came into focus.

_Hey, I honestly hope you survived the night, because I can’t wait to give you so much shit about it. Your phone is in the lounge on silent as I didn’t want you to be disturbed and please drink all the water, you’ll feel better. Also, you lied - you’re not too heavy to carry up three flights of stairs ;) Text me when you’ve returned to the land of the living. And thanks for an entertaining night._

_Steve xx_

Bucky was dead, he'd expired from embarrassment, there was no coming back from this, he may as well pack up his life and move to New Zealand.

“He carried me? Like a fucking passed out lump who can’t hold his liquor?” Surprisingly there was no response from the dark corners of his room. He looked back at the note, eyes unable to stop lingering on the two kisses next to Steve’s name and wondered if they were meant as kisses or if that was Steve’s natural writing style.

Glancing at his watch he saw it was after noon and groaned. He had so much work to catch up on, thankfully he didn’t have any meetings, but he should get up and look over a few quotes and respond to his emails. Having his own business was amazing, but some days he wanted one full day off for himself, then quickly berated himself, he was lucky - succeeding where others hadn’t.

Then the memory of something soft against his forehead hit him as he sat up and grasped the water. Did Steve put him to bed? He must have, his jeans were off, and he was still in his underwear and sweat dried shirt. God, he hoped he kicked off his jeans in a drunken stupor at some point. 

The first time Steve undressed him he kind of wanted a different scenario - maybe one he remembered for starters.

He clambered out of bed and threw on some sweats and a rumpled t-shirt, blearily finding his phone on the coffee table and slumped onto the sofa with a sigh. He grabbed the blanket that sat on the arm and snuggling down, ignoring his stomach’s cries to let it die.

**Sent:** <pic:itsalive!>

**Steve:** Good movie, glad you’re back in the land of the living. Head?

Bucky baulked, then groaned at what he’d like to think Steve was offering, and only just managed to not reply with a ‘yes please’ and a smirking face.

**Sent:** it’s still attached... So far no major damage detected, but I haven’t tried to recite Pythagoras theorem yet

 **Sent:** but thanks for - you know

**Steve:** :D don’t break your brain - and it was my pleasure. 

**Steve:** Sooo… any guesses after last night?

Bucky stared at the screen for a full minute, wondering if something had been mentioned the night before about how they’d met, it seemed Steve was fishing and that he wouldn’t be surprised if Bucky guessed. But Bucky, he couldn’t recall much, just snatches of conversation, and was suddenly very annoyed with past Bucky and his inability to recall anything important except how delicious Steve smelt. Which to be fair was quite important, but not if they’d touched on how they knew each other.

**Sent:** Was it mutual friends - like at a party? It feels like maybe you’ve looked after drunk Bucky before?

A long time passed before Bucky received a reply. Enough time that he’d gone to the toilet, refilled his glass, managed to grab a slice of bread with peanut butter swiped over it (because who had time to wait for toast) and panicked three hundred times that Steve was frustrated at his response. But when he sat back down, there was a text waiting for him. He flicked on the TV and took a bite of his bread, stomach growling and opened the message, and immediately dropped the rest of his bread.

**Steve:** Nope, not through friends. But it’s also not the first time I’ve been in one of your bedrooms ;)

And it was the winking face that undid Bucky. Had he been right from his first guess? Was Steve an old one-night stand? Oh Jesus Christ, Bucky had forgotten sleeping with the most amazing, fun, handsome man on the planet. And before he could ring Darcy to yell and scream and ask for advice on how to respond, another text came in and he was almost too nervous to open it, but he never did have a lot of resolve.

**Steve:** Tenpin bowling tomorrow night?

**Sent:** Sounds great.

And that was all the game James Buchanan Barnes possessed, ‘sounds great’ because his mind was reeling, along with his stomach and he knew he couldn’t deal with spending his Saturday alone or working. He rang Darcy, citing he didn’t care if Loki was with her, but he needed her to come over immediately with pizza, a frozen cola and to be prepared to watch Full Metal Alchemist all day. He also slipped in that his younger self might have slept with Steve years earlier.

Darcy was at his door in half an hour.

He really did love her. Mostly.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all, I won't take up too much of your time - but once again thanks for the heart warming love you've gifted to me and this little story - I think these boys just might be on the precipice of something big...
> 
> Enjoy :)

Bucky was nervous, in a completely different way than usual. So far each time he’d met up with Steve there was an anticipation, a jumpy excited feeling deep in his gut from being around a man who Bucky would choose to spend the rest of his life with if given half a chance. But everything was beginning to blur, to seep in together, he wasn’t sure if what was happening between them was real or if it was still some kind of game.

He’d spent way too long the day before lamenting to Darcy the fact he couldn’t remember Steve, and she’d just told him to ask Steve outright. Of which Bucky responded that he wasn’t about to ask if Steve’s dick had been intimately acquainted with any or all of his holes. He didn’t want to know that he’d forgotten Steve, but that seemed to be where the entire fiasco was headed, so how did he bring it up delicately?

Steve had to think Bucky was the easiest man on the planet, especially since he couldn’t remember their time together, but there was an edge to it, Bucky really wasn’t sure if they _had_ been intimate, he could cobble together most of his one-night stands and Steve just didn’t fit in anywhere. But Steve’s text kept floating through his mind _‘it’s also not the first time I’ve been in one of your bedrooms’_ followed by the damn winky face. Bucky couldn’t be reading it wrong? Could he?

Swallowing thickly, he looked up at the neon flashing sign above him and took a deep breath before walking through the doors. 

When Steve had suggested meeting at Strikes Ahoy, a local bowling alley, Bucky was surprised. He’d almost lived there on weekends when a teenager, going with friends or just alone to escape for a bit to have a shake and burger while trying to score the perfect game (something he’d almost done but hadn’t managed to).

The first thing he noticed as he entered was that it had been heavily renovated, long gone was the rusted out counter with the candy for sale behind glass, so too had the racks of ugly, smelly shoes. Now it was sleek, filled with neon lighting, a full kitchen and bar area had sprung up on one side and he could smell the grease and hot food, his stomach rumbling immediately. The second thing he noticed was Steve, leaning over the counter, selecting shoes, two pairs in fact and Bucky wondered how he knew his size. But he took the opportunity to look his fill, knowing Steve hadn’t seen him yet. 

Steve was wearing another crisp white t-shirt sold in the youth section, a pair of faded light blue denim jeans and peach coloured Adidas shoes. Bucky felt like a dork thinking it, but Steve truly looked like a vision and Bucky still couldn’t believe that he was the one to capture Steve’s attention, even if it were only friendly. His stomach soured at the thought, though he wasn’t sure what else he was supposed to think. _He_ definitely felt the sizzle between them, it was undeniable, but did Steve?

“Heya Steve,” Bucky greeted as he walked over, loving the way Steve turned immediately at the sound of his voice, the biggest smile on his face forming.

“Bucky, you really are alive! - oh sorry,” he said to the girl waiting behind the counter, who smiled and started a tab as Steve turned back to Bucky, “size eleven right?”

“Please tell me you don’t remember my shoe size from when we met? If so this is getting stranger by the minute.”

The bashful expression on Steve’s face was surprising, and he ducked his head.

“Nah, just noticed your shoes were almost the same size as mine when we were at the movies.”

Bucky was impressed, he’d been looking too hard at Steve’s biceps and thighs to let his eyes drift lower to feet. He was certain Steve had the best looking toes in existence though, it was a given. Yet Bucky was pleased that Steve had taken enough notice to get it right.

They grabbed their shoes and Bucky followed Steve to the lane he’d booked, Steve turning back to him, “I hope you don’t mind, but I ordered us some cheeseburgers and chocolate thick shakes to come out. Thought you might appreciate it.”

Bucky stumbled over his feet, quickly righting himself before Steve noticed, as it was his go-to food order whenever he went bowling. Had he and Steve done this before? Wracking his memory, nothing came to mind except when he was a teenager, fairly certain he’d never brought a date to Strikes Ahoy before. Or had Steve ordered him a cheeseburger because of his drunken ramblings on the food? Which led him to wonder if he should bring up the text message from the day before, the one about Steve being in Bucky’s room? Although Steve hadn’t mentioned it yet, so maybe it was best to let it alone. 

Half a minute later, Bucky realised it was almost an impossibility, because that’s all his brain would focus on. Steve in his room - naked.

But Bucky didn’t have time to ruminate on it, as the moment Steve stood up and got his first strike, Bucky knew it was on.

The competitiveness was rife between them, the air thick with teasing and goading and Bucky hadn’t felt so alive in years. He was electric with it, the playful shoves, the nicknames, everything was fun and in jest and Bucky knew he was helplessly in _something_ with Steve.

“Tell me you weren’t this terrible at bowling in Russia?” Steve asked at one point and Bucky stopped in his tracks, cocking his head to the side in contemplation.

Steve grinned impishly at him and then bowled, the resounding crash as the pins fell under his onslaught lost as Bucky tried to work through what Steve had just asked. He made no secret about his four years in Russia, some of the craziest and best years of his life, but in what capacity did Steve know about it? It wasn't the first time Steve had mentioned it either, so was Steve one of the college exchange students he may have had a dalliance with? But no. There weren’t that many, and from recollection, there was no Steve, though to be fair he was nineteen and horny, and some people blurred in with the others, but he had a feeling he’d remember Steve. So why couldn’t he?

“Were you always this rude?” Bucky sassed finally, before bowling a perfect strike.

Steve laughed, and waited for the pins to reset, then gave Bucky the side-eye, “yes I was, actually a lot ruder. But it made you laugh.”

Bucky was left dry mouthed as he watched Steve’s muscular back ripple under the movement of bowling, the way his t-shirt tightened and jeans hugged his ass as he bent over in a way that made Bucky want to drop to his knees and worship it. He was going to have to ask; ask Steve if he was a one-night stand and cop the flack he was sure to get for forgetting him. 

The food and shakes arrived just as Bucky was trying to form the words that he wanted to ask. He didn’t want to exclaim them all undignified or crass, so he bit into one of the best cheeseburgers he’d ever tasted (fairly certain it was the company that made it so damn good) and chewed thoughtfully, watching the way Steve ate with the reverence only befitting to a great burger.

“Were you a one night stand?” Bucky blurted after swallowing his last bite, face burning hot. He’d not actually meant to ask like that, but it was driving him nuts and the words wouldn’t stop repeating themselves in the forefront of his brain.

Steve choked on his shake and Bucky’s stomach flipped when heard what could have been, ‘I wish,’ but wasn’t sure through the coughing, so remained quiet, searching for any sign that Steve might give away.

Finally Steve got himself under control and his gaze caught Bucky’s; to his credit Bucky didn’t flinch or look away, he was ready to meet his demise head on, ready to be humiliated that he’d screwed enough guys that he couldn’t remember the most gorgeous and kind man on the planet.

“No, Buck, we didn’t sleep together. Well not like... err...” Steve made a strange motion with his hands, then looked heavenward, “in the physical, sweaty sense.”

Bucky wasn’t expecting to feel equal parts relieved and upset with the answer, he thought it might dissolve his questions, not create more. Yet, what the hell did Steve mean by that?

“Oh, right. Well that clears that up.”

Steve chuckled, his face still tinged in colour, smiling softly at Bucky with an eyebrow raised. 

“That’s it?”

“What’s it?”

“No more questions, follow ups, clarifications?”

“Am I allowed to ask?” Bucky asked, liking the cocky expression on Steve’s face way too much.

“Sure, whether I answer or not is another matter.” And Steve stood up with one final slurp to his shake, winked at Bucky (who fucking swooned) grabbed his bowling ball and proceeded to orchestrate the perfect strike. 

Bucky was harder than he’d ever been in his life. Christ he wanted Steve to take him in hand like the bowling bowl.

“So,” Steve said as he sasheyed back over, having to have _some_ idea of the state he’d put Bucky in, “That’s four guesses right? You’ve only got one left, your collection might not get completed at this rate.”

Bucky had no idea what Steve was talking about, all he could fixate on was the smirk, the way Steve’s bottom lip was slightly reddened from biting it while he concentrated on his shot.

“Completed?” He asked dumbly, eyes narrowing when Steve licked his lips. This man, he was playing with Bucky now, he had to be.

“The Atlantis shuttle scale model, to go with your Endeavor?” Steve was outrightly grinning at him now with a sparkle in his eye that made Bucky want to hide under a blanket. Though thinking about a blanket made Bucky want to get under it _with_ Steve, so he cut off that line of thought.

“Oh, right, don't worry, I’ll guess where I know you from - I want it badly enough,” and it was when Steve’s grin dropped and something altogether much hungrier took over that Bucky realised what he’d uttered, and be damned if he was taking it back because if Steve looked at him like that when he’d accidently made an innuendo, then fuck, what would he do when Bucky meant it?

“Want to come over and see it?”

Bucky’s mouth went dry again, and even though he knew Steve was talking about the model, he nodded dumbly, and grabbed his jacket.

They left a few minutes later, Steve leading the way with a quick grin and chatting about NASA’s latest tweet, and Bucky still couldn’t find his voice, realising a moment later he had no idea who won the game or what the final score was.

  
  


They’d been walking for only a minute or two, as Steve said he lived close by and it wasn’t worth getting a Lyft, but in that time as Steve chatted amiably, all Bucky could wonder and hope was that he might just be about to see _Steve’s_ bedroom. That their evening could possibly turn into something more. He was trying desperately to keep his desires hidden, but he was certain they were plain as day on his face each time he glanced over.

The idea that Steve might have invited him back to his apartment for something more than a NASA nerd-out wouldn’t leave him, and different scenarios on how he could segway a conversation from space-walking to fucking, filled his over active brain.

“What was that?” Steve asked with a smile in his voice and Bucky had a mortifying moment wondering if he’d said some of that to Steve. Christ he hoped not. Unless Steve was on board for a little… play.

“Oh, nothing, sorry, was just thinking out loud,” he covered badly, and it was only then he looked up at his surroundings he realised they were in a very familiar neighbourhood, _very_ familiar.

“Huh, I used to live around here.” He remarked with a soft smile, having not visited the area in a long time, years in fact.

“Oh really?” was Steve’s reply, though there was a warmth to his voice, like he knew something Bucky didn’t, and Bucky’s skin began to itch, just under the surface as he walked alongside Steve. He wanted to reach out, grab his hand, have some kind of physicality between them that wasn’t occasional shoulder bumps and side looks. He needed to know if what he was feeling was reciprocated or if he was making the biggest fool of himself. Yet there was a charge in the air, something different from every other time they’d been alone, it had started the moment they started to walk together, and hadn’t dissipated as their steps ate up the distance towards Steve’s home.

“What if I don’t guess?” Bucky asked, needing to say something as they walked past a store that now sold cupcakes, and used to be a laundrette.

“What do you mean?” Steve asked with a small shrug and a quirk to his brow that was altogether way too sexy.

“Well I get Atlantis if I guess where I know you from, but you never told me in the end what you’d get if I didn’t.”

Bucky was interested to see the colour rising up Steve’s neck just enough to tinge Steve’s ears pink and he wanted to believe that Steve wanted something personal from him, but he also didn’t want to wish for foolhardy things. Surely Steve wasn’t dreaming of taking Bucky apart slowly as part of the deal. But Bucky would gladly guess wrong for the rest of his life if that’s what Steve desired as a prize. He probably wanted Bucky to take him to the planetarium or something equally mundane. Yet Bucky still would, as it meant more time with Steve, and honestly the planetarium was anything _but_ mundane.

“Ah, that’s my place just up there.”

For a second Bucky was going to push the point, demand an answer, but lost every word in his brain as he looked up at the building, “you live _here_?”

“Yup,” Steve replied, popping the ‘p’. “Come on, we have to take the stairs as the elevators out again.”

Laughing, Bucky followed Steve’s perky ass up the stairs, the elevator had never worked when he lived in the building either, and he just couldn’t believe that Steve lived in the very apartment that he’d spent almost a year in, during one of his dad’s rare breaks from the army.

But that wasn’t where the coincidences finished, they stopped on floor three, and Steve led them down the hallway and Bucky was smacked in the chest with nostalgia. Running down the narrow hall with Becca, getting yelled at from the window by his mom when he forgot his jacket, and looking after some of the coolest kids in the building. He had about three or four regular babysitting gigs, but his favourite hands down was Stevie, his next door neighbour, and it was when Steve unlocked the door right next to his old apartment that something suddenly twigged in Bucky's molasses slow brain. But, there was no way. 

It couldn’t be.

 _He_ couldn’t be.

“Welcome to my home.” Steve announced, blue gaze lingering on Bucky, and Bucky knew his mouth was opening and closing with no noise coming out, but he couldn’t form the words, they were stuck in his throat. He was falling down a chasm of disbelief and uncertainty. Bucky wasn’t sure he could trust his own brain, it was spinning at such a rate his thoughts wouldn’t order themselves.

Walking through a door as familiar as his old one, he wasn’t sure what to expect, but it looked nothing like when he was younger. The renovations had made the threadbare and homey apartment into a sleek, yet still warm space, it was very in tone with how Bucky perceived Steve. Colours deep and rich complimented each other, the lounge comfy looking, the art on the walls all original by glance, the kitchen space was open plan and the appliances were top of the range, and Bucky salivated over the bright orange Smeg oven. It was gorgeous and suited the space perfectly. His fingers itched to bake.

Yet it was the huge display case in the corner of the living room full of toys and figurines that caught his attention immediately.

“Beer?” Steve asked before Bucky could investigate further, the look in Steve's eye intense, waiting, watching Bucky in a way that he’d never had before and Bucky was still at a loss for words and could only nod.

His brain ticked over - could Steve really be him?

No...

But - maybe.

Was there a way this Steve and the Stevie of his youth were the one and the same?

There wasn’t a way in hell. 

Stevie had been so unwell, had huge problems with his lungs and sight, he was never going to turn into the huge beefcake that was rusicking around his fridge grabbing them a drink. But what if he did? 

No.

No way.

But it was starting to add up, the way Steve knew so many things about him, knew about Russia, had _been_ in his room, had casually dropped facts about him the whole time they’d been meeting up; flummoxing Bucky each time on how in hell he could _know_ so much. 

He walked in a trance over to the display cabinet, mind reeling, trying to place strands of memories together with what he now knew, and it was all starting to make sense. 

Bucky was an idiot.

Not just an idiot but an absolute disaster.

The moment he came to a halt before the glass structure that housed a variety of figurines, one caught his eye straight away.

Chewbacca, in his box, in pristine condition except for a small dent in the very bottom right hand corner where Bucky had accidently dropped it the first time he’d come over to babysit.

A cold beer was suddenly placed into his numb hands and he couldn’t help swing his eyes to the side, to stare at the man standing next to him. A man who looked nervous, jittery and suddenly the overlay of a small blonde boy and the man came together.

“Stevie?” he asked quietly, hand reaching out without his permission to touch Steve on the cheek, but Steve didn’t move away, if anything he sighed into the touch and watched Bucky closely, eyes dark and still full of worry and concern. But Bucky was only filled with elation.

“Holy fuck. You’re little Stevie Rogers.”

  
  



	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my god - guys!!! The response for the last chapter was amazing - I'm so happy so many of you just jumped on and yelled that Bucky FINALLY figured it out (with a little bit of help from Steve {read - a lot}).
> 
> So here is the first aftermath of that discovery and I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it!
> 
> Thank you gorgeous people for all the support <3

Steve appeared to wince at Bucky's words, and suddenly he wasn’t sure if he’d somehow said the wrong thing, had guessed incorrectly, but he was certain of it, he knew it was Stevie without a doubt. Well, he did now. He swallowed the foolishness at not realising it earlier down, but who could blame him honestly? Steve was a completely different person. But before he could ask if he’d offended Steve, Steve smiled wanly.

“Nobody has called me little in quite some time.”

His hand came up to cup over Bucky’s and it was only then Bucky realised he’d not removed his palm from Steve’s cheek.

Feeling silly, Bucky pulled free and heard a deep sigh from Steve, watching the way his mouth turned down and his shoulders slump, but for all of Steve’s strange reaction, Bucky could only grin. He was so excited.

“I can’t believe it’s you!”

“Yep, it’s me, Buck.” Steve replied flatly, making Bucky frown. Wasn’t it a good thing? He'd guessed correctly. "The little annoying neighbour you used to babysit."

Unable to contain himself, Bucky blurted, "tell me everything, like what happened to you after we left, I can’t believe you still live here, your mum? How’s Sarah?”

It only took a second to realise that Steve wasn’t responding in shared excitement at a lost friendship being rekindled, and understanding flowed over Bucky like cold water, he could have kicked himself.

“Oh, shoot, she’s... I’m sorry Steve, how long?”

“I was twenty one. Old enough to take on this place, but still too young to lose her.”

Without thought, Bucky stepped forward and wrapped Steve up in a big hug, feeling Steve stiffen momentarily before melting into the embrace. It was nice, comforting, and Bucky realised the contact was not just for Steve. It was for their past selves, for the people lost along the way.

“Pal, just letting you know this is not in pity, this hug for Sarah is more for me than you, alright. She was a hell of a woman.”

The muffled chuckle from the crook of his neck where Steve had somehow managed to fold himself into tickled, and Bucky tried to think unsexy thoughts because they were hugging over a loss of a beautiful soul, not for  _ other _ reasons. No matter how much he wanted that.

Steve pulled back after a bit, and wanting to give him his space, Bucky took a few steps away, but for some reason this seemed to make Steve deflate even more. Maybe he shouldn’t have brought up Sarah after all, he was never a great judge when it came to those types of things.

“So still a NASA nerd I see?" Bucky chuckled, trying to deflect the mood and get Steve to smile again. He pointed at a few items in the cabinet, "Are these some of the concept toys you create in here? Not going to lie, when you said you created toys I wasn't sure if you meant…" he trailed off, almost on the cusp of revealing his dirty thoughts. He was so transparent he may as well tell Steve he'd jerked off more than once to the idea Steve was creating dildos with those huge capable hands.

Steve’s facade finally cracked and he gave a soft huff of laughter, though it didn’t reach his eyes as he pointed at one odd looking robot toy, "yeah there’s a few that didn't quite make it to production, but they're cool, so I kept them."

Steve fell into silence staring into the cabinet and Bucky wasn't sure where he'd gone, what his thoughts were, why he looked so dejected. 

Unless…

"Steve? I don't really expect you to give me Atlantis."

Startled, Steve turned to him with surprise etched into his features, "oh. I mean - you guessed who I was, so it's yours… that was the deal."

Bucky couldn’t help but grasp Steve's bicep, trying and failing to ignore the sheer mass under his fingers,  _ god _ he wanted to pull Steve in for a kiss, but he was getting such a strange vibe all of a sudden. Earlier he could have sworn Steve wanted something more, or had he misinterpreted things?

So he tried once again to lighten the mood.

“Okay, so now I know my brat of a neighbour was playing me for the last month or so, what did you get if I didn’t guess who you were?”

Bucky was expecting a laugh, an answer with a quirk of a lip, he wasn’t expecting Steve’s face to first go pale, then flood with colour as he coughed and took a large gulp of beer.

“It’s stupid,” Steve said and took another long pull of of his drink, was he trying to get drunk? Quickly?

“I mean, I’m sure it’s not.” Bucky countered, his curiosity more than piqued now.

Steve stared at Bucky, really stared and there was a new intensity in his eyes, one that stole Bucky’s breath, the blue was depthless, swirling and Bucky was trying to make out what it could mean, and that was the moment Steve’s eyes dropped to his lips and -  _ oh. _

Just as Steve’s gaze skittered away, Bucky threw every caution he’d ever held in his life at the wind and reached forward, grasping the front of Steve’s t-shirt, gripping onto it like he was holding on for dear life, that he’d fall if he let go. And as Steve sucked in a surprised inhale, Bucky pulled at the same time and leant up on his toes, lips meeting Steve’s in a rush of shocked breath followed by a deep gasp.

For the longest second Bucky thought he’d misjudged everything terribly. Steve was placid under his lips, not moving, completely still, and just as he was about to pull away in embarrassment and go down in flames for being the biggest idiot on the planet; Steve’s arms wrapped around him, tighter and tighter so he couldn’t escape even if he wanted to - of which he most definitely did  _ not. _

Then Steve moved, lips dragging across Bucky’s and Bucky almost lost the bottle of beer he was hanging onto for dear life. Unbridled sensation ran through him, down to his toes, sparking, different, new and Bucky had to wonder if it was because he was more invested in Steve than he had a right to be, or if he was just a jumbled mess. 

Steve kissed like Bucky was the only person on the surface of the earth that mattered, that Bucky’s lips and Bucky’s lips alone had captured his most ardent attention, and that he was never going to stop punishing him for that fact.

Bucky didn’t care, had a mind to tell Steve to never stop kissing him, not ever.

Shivering from the intensity of Steve’s attack on his lips, Bucky started to fight back, tried to wrest a little control else he’d turn into a puddle on the floor in no time, begging to be taken in the way he was craving desperately. And as his tongue flicked forward, gently pressing between them as Steve’s open mouthed kisses gained momentum, Steve let out an unholy growl that sent tingles racing up Bucky’s spine.

Pressing forward, Steve allowed himself to very carefully be pushed backwards, until his knees hit the sofa and then he was down, the shocked look on his face when their lips parted as he fell, something Bucky would treasure in days to come, but right in that moment he was hungry for more.

“Wha?” Steve managed, but Bucky had grabbed their bottles, hastily placing them on the ground and immediately straddled a wide-eyed Steve who was staring up at him like he hung the moon. And Bucky wasn’t sure he deserved that look, but by god he was going to relish in it.

He pressed his body up against Steve as best he could whilst wearing jeans, and when he leant forward, Steve cupped his cheek, rubbing his thumb over the coarse stubble, halting Bucky’s movements. A little breathlessly, Bucky quirked a brow in question, Steve’s expression hard to read.

“What is it? This not ok?”

“Fuck.. I mean, yes this is okay, this is perfect in fact.”

“Good,” Bucky said and went to lean back in, already addicted to the softness of Steve’s lips, but stopped when Steve sighed, giving a small smile, a pleased one but with an uncertain tilt to his lip and Bucky’s heart almost stopped at the soft enquiring and almost hesitant look on Steve’s face.

“I honestly didn’t think you’d ever kiss me like that if you knew who I really was. And I didn't want to take this any further until you did know, I was caught in a quandary. Half way petrified you'd only see me as a kid once you knew and elated that you might want more. But I couldn't wait any longer." Steve took in a breath, "I've been waiting for that kiss since I was twelve.”

Stunned, Bucky could only stare back at Steve, at his kiss stained lips and gorgeous blue eyes so open and earnest with him, and he must have made a disbelieving noise because Steve’s smile widened and it was magical to witness. He always wanted to make Steve smile like that.

“Steve, maybe it hasn't been as long for me, but I’ve wanted to kiss you like that since I ran into you at the station the other week. Been desperate for it actually.”

Steve’s hands wrapped around Bucky’s waist easily and somehow he managed to slide Bucky closer until Steve could kiss the underside of his chin and,  _ fuck _ , how was that so erotic?

“Yes, but, I’m not who you thought I was. I’m just that dorky little kid who worshipped the ground you walked on. Followed you around like a lost puppy, annoyed you every day when you were just trying to chill out and listen to music with your friends.”

Bucky inhaled raggedly when Steve’s tongue traced out over the skin of his neck, Steve was anything  _ but _ a dorky young kid, he was making Bucky come undone with only a deft flick of his tongue. But it was clear Steve had some reservations about their past. 

“Steve I never thought that, and to be honest you’re not exactly that little  _ kid _ right now, are you?” The chuckle Steve let out raced directly to Bucky’s dick, and he couldn’t help it and dipped forward, feeling vindicated as whirls of eased tension flew throughout his body, making him altogether too giddy. “And just for the record, I’m glad it’s you.”

As his lips met Steve’s again, it was like coming home, they were now familiar, plump and open under his mouth, and it didn’t take long for Steve to start and push up, take control. And Bucky was  _ there _ for it.

Bucky didn’t know how long he sat on Steve’s lap as they kissed each other slowly, then quicker until it was frenzied, learning each other’s mouths; Steve pulling him in closer, arms wrapped around him, hands pressing up and down his spine as if trying to touch everywhere at once. And all Bucky knew was his head was light and his heart was bursting from his chest. 

He was also as hard as rock in his jeans. 

There was a moment when Steve let out another noise, a borderline grunt as he yanked Bucky up on his lap, to press their torso’s together and it was at that precise moment Bucky realised Steve was also struggling to control himself, and Bucky finally had Steve right where he wanted him.

Almost. 

Naked would be better. 

Buried deep inside of Bucky even more so.

Bucky pulled away, Steve’s lips rosy and red from their passionate kisses, Bucky loving the way Steve’s eyes flitted across his features, taking in each image and moving on, like he was cataloging every mark and freckle Bucky might have. But Steve didn’t look away when finished with his scrutiny, he frowned in concentration, fingers coming up to brush Bucky’s hair aside before he trailed it down his jawline, twisting his hand until the backs of his fingers swept under Bucky’s jaw, his thumb coming up to press at Bucky’s bottom lip.

He couldn’t help it, and sucked the tip of Steve’s thumb into his mouth eliciting a pleased shock of air. So he did it again, running his tongue along the pad of Steve’s finger, and instead of the surprise he expected to see, he watched as pure hunger and desire crossed Steve’s features and Bucky shivered with anticipation of things to come.

“You’re gorgeous Buck, that’s never changed. You still steal my breath everytime you look at me.”

It took sheer willpower not to duck his head at Steve’s words, instead he let them flow over him, empowering him. Steve wanted him, thought  _ he _ was worthy of attention, and he was relishing in it.

“I really want to find out what you’ve been up to, and catch up on old times, but.... can we pick this conversation up afterwards, I’ve been thinking about you fucking me into every available surface for way too long now, and I kinda really need that. If you want?”

Steve’s eyes changed to pure black and Bucky yelped when Steve immediately stood up, Bucky left hanging off him like a monkey, impressed at the sheer strength before letting his feet fall to the floor until he stood before Steve, shaking in pure want, unsure what would happen next.

“I’d love nothing more than that,” Steve said with a hint of rasp in his voice, “When were you last tested? I’m clean, have the certificate here,” Steve grabbed out his phone and showed Bucky, whose head was spinning, they were going to do this, right? That’s what this all meant?

He managed to answer coherently, well, he hoped so anyway, “last month, haven’t been with anyone since.” In his stupor he managed to find the certificate on his own phone and show it without accidently clicking on a cat video.

“Perfect.” Steve whispered and Bucky had a feeling he wasn’t talking about their results, not the way Steve was staring into his very soul. “So just to clarify, you want me to take you apart, make you feel good, hey?” Steve’s voice had dropped to a lower octave and Bucky suddenly realised he was in trouble. This Steve wasn’t uncertain, meek and concerned about their past. This Steve knew exactly what he wanted from Bucky, and what he was going to give in return. “You want me to fill you until you’re stretched wide over me, begging for me to move, whining and squirming until you’re almost crying?”

“Jesus, fuck, Steve… yes, yes I want that - all of that.”

“Well good, so do I. Now get in the shower and clean yourself up  _ real _ good, and I’ll be in there in a minute to make sure you did your best.”

In a daze, Bucky stumbled towards the bathroom, yet when he got inside - he floundered.

Anticipation and nerves preceded by a huge dose of desire hit him in the gut as he stood before the large mirror, watching his wide blown eyes staring back at him. He wanted this, badly, so why was he hesitating?

“Fuck…” Bucky looked away, unable to stare too long at the clear feeling shining from his eyes. He wasn’t... He couldn’t... Did he  _ love _ Steve?

“I don’t hear the shower sweetheart, need some help?”

“Give me a second,” Bucky replied, swallowing his tongue at the tone and endearment Steve used.  _ Shit _ . 

He was in love.

Pushing the realisation aside to freak out over later, Bucky started to strip - the more pressing matter was Steve stalking around the apartment waiting for Bucky to prepare himself to be fucked. Raw - he hoped.

The shower was big, obscene really, and Bucky slid under the spray of water immediately, Steve clearly having installed instant hot water. It was a far cry from how the apartment looked all those years ago, and Steve had done a brilliant job. Though why Bucky was concerned about renovations in that moment was beyond him.

Bucky snapped open the nearest shower gel and gave it a perfunctionery sniff, knees buckling as it weaved throughout his senses, it was pure Steve. The scent, delicious and masculine, so he poured a liberal amount on his palm and went to work, marking himself with Steve’s smell. The knowledge of what he was readying himself for, heightened every sweep of his palms across his body, every crevice he spent time on, and Bucky made sure he was clean,  _ inside _ and out.

It was as Bucky was two fingers deep, lost in the haze of anticipation and the feeling of opening himself in Steve’s shower using his scented gel that he realised he wasn’t alone anymore.

Twisting his head, Bucky’s eyes clashed with hooded blue ones, eyes that were dark and threatened Bucky with more pleasure than he could conceivably take, and it was that moment Bucky realised Steve was naked. How long had he been watching? How had Bucky not even seen him until that moment? Steve’s huge arms were crossed over his chest, his hip jutting against the sink, and Bucky faltered, embarrassed at being caught and started to slip his fingers free.

“Don’t,” Steve commanded.

Bucky’s eyes snapped back to Steve’s, bewildered and wide, hand halting, the stretch around his fingers suddenly unbearable under the scrutiny. He could feel the heat in his skin, the flush that would show from neck to knee, but it was the look on Steve’s face he’d never forget. 

Bucky was about to be devoured - and he vibrated from the anticipation in Steve’s gaze, the drawn out moment.

Caught in the sharp command, Bucky allowed his gaze to wander across the expanse of golden skin on display, sucking in a breath when he saw how hard Steve was. But it wasn’t just the sight of Steve’s gorgeously smooth dick that made Bucky gulp, nor the shining release coating the tip, weeping because of Bucky. Steve was long, which was impressive in itself, but it was the sheer thickness that made him clench around his fingers.

He wanted it inside of him, his fingers no longer big enough.

And it was only when he heard Steve growl and grip the base of his dick tightly, that Bucky realised he’d made a small whimpering noise out loud. And  _ Christ _ , the sight of Steve holding his huge dick in hand was enough to elicit another needy moan.

“You ready to show me how clean you are?” Steve husked, impatience tinging his words.

Bucky could only nod mutely, fire deep in his gut at the tone in Steve’s voice, the sheer unbridled passion. All for him.

Between one second and the next Steve was behind him, under the spray, and Steve gently, reverently slid his palm down Bucky’s back until his hand caught Bucky’s, slowly pulling his fingers free from his ass, and Bucky sighed, leaning into the touch. But then Steve pushed Bucky’s fingers back in, and gasping, he looked over his shoulder back at Steve, whose face was way too cheeky for the position they were currently in.

Steve once again pulled Bucky’s wrist until his fingers almost slipped free, then pushed back again. Over and over until Bucky sucked in a gasp at the sensations coursing through him. Steve was fucking into Bucky using his own damn hand, and it was the hottest thing anyone had ever done to him.

“Look at you, so damn stunning,” Steve rasped against his neck, before kissing upwards to bite and tug at his earlobe, and Bucky had only been touched by Steve for less than a minute and he was ready to come everywhere. “You like this, me using your body against you. For your pleasure?”

Nodding again, Bucky let his head fall back, giving Steve more access who bit a little harder.

“Words, babe.”

_ Fuck. _

“Yes, yes I… I love it, oh god…” Bucky shuddered and Steve’s other hand came around to tease along the length of his jutting dick. Water cascaded over them as rivulets hit the floor in a sloshing motion, the sound loud on the tiles, and Bucky was about to come like the teenager he’d been all those years ago, like he’d not had an array of experience. Steve was too much.

“Crook your fingers,” Steve commanded, and half delirious, Bucky knew he’d never be able to deny him anything.

“Oh, Jesus…” Bucky breathed as Steve started to slam Bucky’s own fingers back into his ass, faster and faster until he was ready to cry out for him to stop the torment.

“Fuck,” Steve exclaimed, and slowed the movements, pressing his hardness against the round shape of Bucky’s ass, and Bucky couldn’t help but wriggle, trying to ask for what he wanted without words. “You’re so much more than I ever dreamed.”

Bucky let those words hang in the air, not sure how to respond, but he didn’t have to because suddenly his hand was pulled completely free and flexing his fingers, Bucky had to grip the wall before him as Steve dropped to his knees, was pulling his cheeks apart roughly and running his thumb over Bucky’s loosened hole.

“S… steve…” Bucky whined as the tip slipped in, then pressed further before circling smoothly.

“Hmmm,” Steve hummed, “Oh you did a  _ real _ good job cleaning up sweetheart, but I’d best make sure.”

With those words ringing in his ears, Bucky cried out at the flick of tongue over his rim. Shit, he wasn’t expecting Steve to do that. Not in the shower, water splashing everywhere, messing up the floor, while Steve made a complete mess out of Bucky. As Steve quested forward, gripping his hips, Bucky knew he didn’t care about the state of the bathroom floor, Steve was phenomenal and his mind was no longer thinking linear. 

“Holy fuck.” Bucky cried out as Steve pushed his tongue in deeper, twisting and seeking, exploring. “That feels… so… good.”

Not many men enjoyed to rim, and even fewer who had the commanding presence of Steve, but the way Steve hummed into his hole, licked and tasted with abandon, could only mean he liked to do it. Bucky’s fists balled up as Steve settled in, sliding Bucky’s legs further apart, pressing on his lower back to get Bucky to arch into his mouth. The water pounded into his shoulder blades, and there was no way in hell Bucky was going to put a stop to it. He’d not been eaten in such a thorough way in a long time, years, and fuck - Steve was amazing at it. Impressively so.

“Taste good, Buck, so good.” Steve murmured into his skin, biting the softness of his cheeks, making them jiggle a bit before diving back in.

Bucky was already on the brink, Steve holding his hips, pulling backwards to get as deep as he could. Throwing his head back Bucky cried out, finally letting his voice be heard, and Steve seemed to get off on it, straight away doubling down, licking deeper before pulling back to leave kitten licks across his rim, ensuring no slither of intimate skin was left untouched, and Bucky, well he just let himself go - whimpering with every lick, reaching around to place his hand on the back of Steve’s head, pulling him in, needing more, begging for more, but also needing Steve to let up else he’d come all over the wall in seconds.

Then Steve’s tongue was gone, slipped from his body, but he had no time to lament the loss as two thick fingers replaced it, and Steve pumped slowly, twisting his hand as he laid kisses all up Bucky’s wet spine, slowly standing until he was right up behind him, fingers thrusting with no rush and Bucky couldn’t keep a coherent thought in his head.

“You’re not quite ready for me, but soon sweetheart, soon I’ll have you crying out on my dick.”

Bucky was already crying out for it, and said as much; Steve’s chuckle kind, but he still didn’t hurry things along.

The snick of a lube cap broke through the haze and Bucky hadn’t even noticed it on the shelf, too busy getting off on Steve’s scent at the time. A third finger slid in, tighter, but the burn was good, he wanted more, gasping for more, but Steve wouldn’t relent, took his time and as a fourth finger started to wriggle in, Bucky saw stars.

”Please, now. Fuck - I’m so ready, I can’t… I can’t…”

“You can, Buck, you’re so good for me, look at you writhing on my hand, god you should see how pretty your hole is, sucking in my fingers, greedy for them. My cock is going to love being all snug up inside of you.”

“Steve…” Bucky whined brokenly, needing more, unable to ask except for the pathetic mantra of Steve’s name over and over again.

“Hush, I’ve got you, always going to have you,” Steve whispered against his neck, kissing along it until their lips were only a breath apart.

As Bucky stared dazed into Steve’s eyes, his words flowing over him like syrup, Steve slipped his fingers free, and a moment later felt the blunt end of Steve’s dick, pushing, seeking entry and Bucky arched back, trying desperately to let him in, force it quicker, wanting to be full and stuffed to the brim. He’d never desired anything more in his life.

Steve pumped his hips softly, until the head of his dick popped past the ring of muscle that was denying him at first, and after that, he slowly, so very slowly, pushed and pushed, Bucky holding his breath at the sheer girth, not certain if he could take it all.

“You’re doing so well, so tight, so perfect, but breath for me okay?” Steve murmured, his eyes never leaving Bucky’s, and just as Steve came to a stop and Bucky was ready to yell out that it was too much, Steve kissed him, pressing his tongue deep inside. Bucky found himself impaled at both ends and every sane thought fled, he was nothing more than a ball of energy, of want, of desire. Curling his back he felt Steve deep and thick in him and paired with the twist to his neck so that Steve could push his tongue into his mouth, to claim him everywhere, it was almost overwhelming.

Then Steve started to move.

Bucky exploded, he became a mad man, whimpering, calling out around Steve’s mouth, moaning and writhing in abandon as Steve started to fuck him. And oh, could Steve fuck.

Wave upon wave of elation filled Bucky until his entire body was floating, the endorphins rushing through his body making him lose track of time, until it all came down to Steve’s mouth and dick, there was nothing else. 

He was doing so well holding onto his impending orgasm, until Steve reached around and started to tug at his dick, quickly stripping it, relentless, almost cruel in his strokes and Bucky lost it. It was too much. His orgasm started in his toes and washed over his whole body and he trembled, vibrating from the inside out, clenching over Steve’s dick so tightly that it almost started off a second wave at the sheer size and sensation of Steve pounding away inside of him. Thrusting as Bucky came.

There was no time that mattered as Steve continued to screw him, the water still hot over his feverish skin, washing away his release, swirling down the drain, he was spent, limp and adoring the feel of Steve deep in him, taking pleasure from his body. He never wanted anyone else again in his life.

“Can I come inside of you?” Steve asked, voice tense, needy and Bucky was in too much of a stupor to have realised Steve was so close.

“Mmmm, yes, mark me up inside, mark me as yours,” Bucky lazily responded, not thinking too much about his words until Steve swore and captured his mouth in another searing kiss.

“Mine,” Steve said as he thrust in deeply, “All mine.”

Bucky smiled, body languid and being held up by Steve, he liked that, being Steve’s.

Suddenly the thrusting grew in intensity and Steve’s breaths came in sharp and quick, his lips latching onto Bucky’s neck as he cried out, slamming in deep for a few thrusts before slowing down, and Bucky could feel every delicious pulse, the heat as Steve unloaded into him.

They stayed like that for a long while until Steve was cleaning him out again, fingers first then tongue, slow and soft until Bucky was boneless and wanted to curl up in bed and sleep for a few hours. But it was as Steve dried him down with the fluffiest towel in existence that Steve eyed him with a smirk.

‘What is it?” Bucky asked through a yawn.

“Nothing at all, but if you think you’re going to sleep, you’ve got another thing coming. I’m nowhere near finished with you tonight.”

Bucky didn’t even get a chance to respond as Steve picked him up like he weighed nothing and walked him through to the bedroom before flinging him onto the bed, stalking over to climb on top, covering Bucky completely.

And as Steve started to kiss down his body, not leaving any spot untouched, Bucky realised that time was just a concept, and who needed sleep anyway? He certainly didn’t.

  
  
  
  



	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is everyone - the last chapter of this little childhood friends story between our favourite boys!
> 
> I just want to take this opportunity to say thanks again for all your support on here and on Tumblr and Twitter as well - honestly it's just heart warming to know that you all like my stories and want to see more from me ❤️
> 
> So on that note, this might be the last story you see for a few weeks as I need to knuckle down to write my Marvel Trumps Hate fics - but I have some other quick one-shots that might make it through - will just see how the muse treats me!
> 
> My next AU is superheros - which will be fun to twist as, well, the boys are already superheros - but I have an idea (of course) but it may be a bit before you get that one - but it is coming, I promise!
> 
> So without further adieu, here it is - I hope you enjoy Bucky and Steve's ending and I hope everyone has a beautiful holiday season wherever you are ❤️

Bucky awoke slowly, the delicious ache of being taken over and over so thoroughly tingled deep in his muscles (amongst other places), and he rolled over, finding he had pins and needles in his hand where he’d slept on it heavily. Splaying his fingers out, he reached his arm into the air to try and obtain some feeling back in them by wriggling and clicking his fingers, realising a second later he was actually alone in Steve’s bed. Before he worried too much, Bucky heard distinct movement out in the kitchen, along with the gurgling of a coffee machine, deciding quickly he'd earned being lazy for the morning. More than earned. 

He'd been pummeled like a boxer who'd gone fifty rounds with a giant - and to be fair it felt like they’d got close to that number the previous night. 

Steve had taken him every way conceivable, his stamina intense, his refractory period more like a teenager than a man in his late twenties and it stole every breath Bucky had stored in his body. 

Bucky had straddled the line of holding back his deepest desires, the secret of his feelings for hours. Almost blurting out a thousand times over how much he already loved Steve, biting his tongue at the last second by some grace of God. Though it was almost impossible when Steve was buried in his body, staring deeply into his eyes, circling his hips in a maddeningly slow pace so Bucky could feel every thick inch, hands holding Bucky's head still as he looked down at him, fucking him so sweetly it took him to another plane. 

Yet, there were more times Bucky almost released the words into existence; when Steve gently cleaned him down, brought him water, smoothed the sweaty hair from his forehead to press his lips softly against him, telling him how good he was, that he was perfect.

Bucky had never been so cared for, so  _ seen _ in any of the sexual relationships he’d had, let alone the utter decadent attention Steve lavished on him in only twelve hours together. It was addictive and he wasn’t certain he could now go without. Not after having it once,  _ no _ , multiple times.

There were moments when Bucky was  _ so _ sure Steve reciprocated his feelings, the way his breath caught as he watched Bucky writhe underneath him, the way he held Bucky tight as he came deep inside of him over and over and the wondrous expression on Steve’s face as if Bucky had given him the greatest gift of his life. But it was early in their  _ thing _ , way too soon for love confessions. Nonetheless, that’s how Bucky felt, but he’d keep it to himself for the time being, it was too new to hold up to the light of day and he wasn’t about to ruin the haze of lust and sex that hung over them like a warm afternoon sleeping in the sun.

“You’re awake then?” Steve’s unfathomably deep voice came from the vicinity of the doorway and Bucky looked over to see Steve gloriously naked, leaning against the jamb smiling softly. If it wasn’t a perfect scene already, the two mugs of steaming coffee in his hands sealed it. “What are you doing?”

Bucky frowned in question, then realised Steve was talking about his arm, still straight up in the air as he wiggled his fingers, “Oh, I lost sensation in my hand at some point overnight.”

_ “Not _ the place I expected you to lose sensation,” the smirk was all boyishly teasing, but then Steve’s eyes gave a now-familiar glint and Bucky tensed in anticipation, “but I’d best check you over, just to make sure.”

Bucky had no responses left as Steve placed the mugs on the bedside table and kneeled on the bed, throwing the quilt off Bucky, who was still naked after their last minute shower, hours earlier. Not surprisingly, his dick was already very interested and at Steve’s pleased and slightly feral smile he waited, enjoying that Steve wanted to look at him, be with him, touch him. It was a heady and wonderful sensation and he was going to bask in it for as long as he could. He wanted so desperately to be Steve’s, to belong to him - but one step at a time.

Steve inhaled deeply, nostrils flaring as he scooted closer until his knees touched Bucky’s side, still kneeling above him and then in a flash, proceded to slide his palm up Bucky’s thigh.

“No tingling here?” He asked as his fingers brushed Bucky’s hip bones, before stroking down again back over his thighs, ignoring the growing hardness between.

“Not the ones you’re thinking of, no.” Bucky rasped and arched as Steve’s fingertips danced back up, brushing ever so lightly against the side of his dick.  _ Fuck _ . It was torture already, and Steve had only been at it for less than ten seconds.

The next pass, Steve moved higher, up around his nipples, pinching and pressing until Bucky let out a debaunched moan; and smirking, Steve leant over, flicking his tongue over one nub, before trailing his lips down Bucky's stomach, tonguing around his belly button and the ghost of a breath whispered across the end of Bucky’s weeping dick. 

Steve stopped all movement.

“Are you tingling here?”

“A little lower I think, maybe you should check it out.” Bucky breathed, heart rate ramping up until it pulsed in his neck. 

The low chuckle at Bucky’s words vibrated through his stomach where Steve’s lips were pressed, and suddenly just the tip of his dick was wet, warm and held in Steve’s mouth. 

“Fuck,” Bucky managed to strangle out, fists balling in the sheets either side of his body as Steve’s tongue flicked over and over against his slit, pushing in, then sucking. Steve only popping his mouth off after Bucky was writhing and begging for what felt like an age.

“Definitely some tingling here, let me take care of it.”

_ God _ , Steve was the absolute worst  _ and _ the best tease. And then Steve slid Bucky’s dick all of the way into his mouth, tongue swirling the whole time - and it was  _ everything. _

Crying out, Bucky managed to hold on to himself for almost two minutes under Steve’s brutal technique of pumping his fist tight while sucking and moaning loudly; filling Steve’s mouth with his release after Steve bit lightly on Bucky’s dick, squeezing the base roughly at the same time.

With a shit eating grin and a wipe to his chin, Steve loomed over Bucky while he tried to catch his breath, never having come so quickly from just a blow job before. He was half way between embarrassed and impressed. 

Cupping Steve’s cheek, the playful smirk on Steve's face disappeared as he leaned into the touch, turning his head to kiss Bucky's palm chastly.

“Coffee?”

“Pal, my brain stopped functioning around 3 this morning, and you just ensured it wasn’t coming back on line for the next two hours with that display. So yeah, coffee is a good start.”

Laughing, Steve grabbed the mugs and passed one over, “huh, they’re still hot, you really didn’t last or try to hold on -”

“Enough about my non-existent stamina you ass. But can you blame me? Look at you, look at what you do to me with just a hand and a smirk. I was a goner the day we met.” Bucky teased.

“The day we met hey? Pretty sure a twelve year old stick-thin reed of a boy whose mother was begging for a babysitter didn’t capture your attention.”

“Steve," Bucky paused to gather his thoughts, "you shouldn’t do that.”

Taking a sip, Steve looked over at Bucky, eyebrow raised in question. “Do what?”

“Berate yourself for who you were in the past. That was you, who you were and I loved that kid,” at Steve’s sharp breath he held up a hand. “Not in that way, not at that time anyway,” 

Bucky ignored the secondary noise Steve made at his half confession, and kept going, “You were so smart, funny, generous and scarily intelligent. I loved hanging out with you, getting to know you. You were my fondest memory of living in New York.”

“So why did we fall out of contact so soon after you left then?” Steve asked quietly, a look of surprised wonder shining deep in his eyes, and Bucky wasn’t sure what that look meant, not parceled with those words anyway.

“Honestly, I’m not sure, but probably time and distance, I was a teenage boy growing into a man, living in a whole new country and trying to find my feet again. It wasn’t my intention, I was always going to look you up when I returned, and then…” Bucky paused, looking for the right words.

“Life happened.” Steve finished.

“Yeah, life happened. But I thought of you often over the years. And I can’t tell you how happy I am that we ran into each other again. Even if you made me play stupid games to guess who you were.”

“Well, answer me this, if I hadn’t played a game - if I’d introduced myself as little Stevie Rogers that day, would we be here like this, would we have ended up… dating?”   
“Dating, hey?” Bucky teased, heart full that they were on the same page, and smiled at Steve’s eye roll. “Okay, full disclosure - I don’t know. I mean I feel like yes we would have got here eventually, but it might have looked different, taken longer.”

“That’s what I thought." Steve eyed him over his mug, happy and smiling, "So, I’m glad I played the game then.”

“Me too,” Bucky replied, and finally took a sip of coffee, almost dying at the taste, “Oh my god, is there hazelnut in this?” at Steve’s nod he inhaled and took another deep sip, Steve was officially perfect.

“I remember a lot about what you like... and honestly,” Steve trailed a hand across Bucky’s chest, and pinched a nipple - hard. Bucky yelled out and squirmed immediately, “I’m finding out about a lot of other things you like too.”

“Anything you want Stevie, it’s all yours,” Bucky confessed, and the gravity of his words was too much for early morning so he grinned quickly, “I’m so glad we’re not in your childhood bedroom though,  _ that _ would have been weird.”

“Ha, that’s my makeshift toy studio now, I’ll show you later.” Steve took another sip and placed the mug down on the bedside table and faced Bucky, expression serious all of a sudden and Bucky waited to hear what Steve was clearly thinking heavily about. “So it doesn’t bother you?”

“What?”

“That you used to babysit me?”

“Are you age-ist Rogers?”

“No,” Steve spluttered, “But I mean is it weird for you?”

“Look, if you keep talking about it, it’ll get weird. I mean, sure I’m not going to imagine you like you were before when we were just kids… but, I love that we have a past, knew each other before and have shared life experiences. It makes this whole relationship real, solid if you know what I mean?”

Steve stared at him for a long moment before reaching out and cupping his chin, leaning forward to kiss him softly, sweetly; and for some reason the moment felt weighted, momentous, like something big had shifted between them.

“Did you know that you’re the reason I realised I was bisexual?”

“Huh?” Bucky asked dumbly, still lost in the blue of Steve’s eyes as he watched Bucky closely. 

“Yeah, you were so open about liking boys, even back then, and I could finally admit to myself that I liked both girls and boys and shouldn’t be ashamed of that. But I really think it was just  _ you _ who I fell in love with, not the concept of being bisexual.”

“Love,” Bucky echoed, unable to break eye contact.

“Too soon?” Steve asked, intensity burning in his eyes and Bucky swallowed tightly.

“No. Not too soon at all,” he finally whispered.

The rest of the morning was spent in Steve’s bed, whispering words of love, desire and comfort into each others’ ears as they made love over and over again until they fell into an exhausted sleep early afternoon.

  
  


“Do you know how many hints I dropped on you over the last month,” Steve said smugly, moving Bucky around on the sofa, positioning him so his back leant up against Steve’s front. Bucky meanwhile melted and was getting  _ way _ too used to being manhandled. He wasn’t even angry about it.

“You didn’t. I would have noticed.” Bucky retorted and flicked to the next channel, settling on National Geographic for the moment.

“For starters, I asked if you still drank Chivas, you used to drink your dad’s all the time from his liquor cabinet, said it was an 'adult drink' which was why you’d never let me try it.”

Bucky blinked,  _ oh yeah _ , he’d forgotten about that. “To be fair pal, you would have gone into cardiac arrest with all the medication you were on back then, I wasn’t going to get into trouble for that, just so you could have a sip.”

Steve chuckled, Bucky feeling the rumble through his back.

“I'm going to confess something here, when I turned twenty one, just before mom… well, before - I went to a bar with some friends and I ordered a Chivas. It was hands down…” Steve paused, and Bucky spun his head to look up at him, “The worst drink I’ve  _ ever _ tasted.”

Bucky laughed and leant up to kiss Steve’s chin, loving how he ducked his head so their lips would meet, “You wouldn’t know a good drink if it bit you on that gorgeously firm ass.”

“Ha,” Steve said and settled back in, “I then offered you Atlantis, after telling you my name was Steve. I mean, NASA - come on I may as well have engraved it on a keyring by that stage.”

Bucky sat and spun, affronted.

“Come on, seriously. Don’t take this the wrong way, but you know what you looked like as a kid, how in hell was I supposed to marry those images up in my mind like 15 years later and come up with my neighbour who I babysat for  _ almost _ a year when I was seventeen?”

“It was obvious is all I’m saying,” Steve retorted with an insufferable smirk. “Mad Max.”

“What?” Bucky asked incredulously.

“I took you to see Mad Max, how many times did we watch that back in the day?”

“I don’t know - only about a thousand,” Bucky exclaimed and threw his hands in the air in mock annoyance. “Alright I admit it, I’d make a terrible Sherlock, I have no deduction skills and -”

“Damn straight you'd be terrible. I had to bring you back to your old apartment building, bring you inside of  _ my _ place for you to finally realise.”

“Don’t interrupt your elders,” Bucky stated, then laughed at the look on Steve’s face. “But how did you… get like this?” Bucky gestured at Steve, whose face tinged pink.

“So when I was young, I got a crush, made a pact that one day when I was all grown up, I would kiss a certain neighbour of mine,” Steve rubbed a thumb lightly across Bucky’s lips, and Bucky held his breath at the words, the gesture, the earnestness in Steve's eyes, “And as I grew, I realised with all of my prolonged hospital stays and ailments, that if I didn’t take charge of myself, be the best I could be, then I might not survive to see you again, get that kiss.”

“Steve,” Bucky said softly, “I didn’t know you got so sick.”

“It’s okay, you were well into living in Russia by then, many years actually when it all happened. So I started to take care, did the exercises I needed, took my medications, went to every specialist appointment and started to really look after myself. I also became addicted to the gym in the meantime, got laser eye surgery in my twenties on a recommendation from my doctor, still have asthma, but it’s not as severe now.”

“But -”

“Yes, Buck, I always carry an inhaler on me just in case.” Steve smiled at him indulgently, “Always looking out for me aren’t you?”

“Always will,” Bucky couldn’t help respond and when Steve’s entire expression melted into one of pure joy, he realised he’d finally said the right thing. “Alright pal, I think you mentioned getting pizza and watching a repeat of the latest launch on NASA TV.

“You’re a nerd, Buck.” Steve chuckled and pulled him back into the circle of his arms, hugging tighter than before, placing a kiss to the crown of his head.

“But you love me,” Bucky teased back.

“Always will,” was the soft response.

  
  
  


_ Steve looked over at Bucky who was softly snoring against the window of their hire car and smiled, eyes shifting back to the darkened road before them. They’d been wanting to visit New Zealand for an age, years in fact, and finally they managed to organise it so they could spend an entire two months travelling around, visiting movie sites, participating in adrenaline sports and having a well earned break from both of their busy lives. _

_ They’d been living together for just over two years, and Steve had never been happier, he still couldn’t believe a chance encounter at the top of some subway stairs could have led to the most important relationship of his adult life. Though if he were being honest, that could be said of his childhood too. Bucky, without realising it had helped shape Steve into the adult he’d become, the person he wanted to be, and sure they’d parted, lived their own lives for many years, but in the end, fate or something greater had put them on the same path again. _

_ As Steve weaved his way down a barrage of small roads, spying wildlife and green pastures in the headlights, he thought about their upcoming location. The next day they were staying in luxury accomodation in Milford Sound, with beautiful views over a babbling river, snow capped mountains and lush greenery surrounding them on all sides. It was, in Steve’s opinion, the most important stop on their entire trip. _

_ Bucky stirred, mumbling about Hobbits and Steve reached over, patting his thigh until he settled, then looked in the rear view mirror at his backpack sitting innocently on the shelf; smiling at what he knew was nestled inside of it safely. _

_ It was going to be a good day. _

_ A perfect day in fact. _

_ And now that Steve had grown all the way up, had finally gotten his kiss from Bucky, he just wanted one more thing. James Bucky Barnes as his husband. _

_ He just had to ask first. _

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



End file.
